Dedicated to Someone I call “F”

Funny, of all the letters in the alphabet, I chose the letter F. Maybe because, one, your real name doesn’t have one on it, and two, maybe, because I am lucky; we’re Friends.

It was never my intention to write this dedication but I felt I just have to. It has been months since bits and pieces keep on whirling around my head. Nonetheless, I am very certain that you will never read this.

I am Sorry.

I didn’t expect a simple favor and planned information dissemination would lead to an extended getting-to-know-you-better conversation.  To tell you honestly, that event was not, and never, for you. I think I just let my side of being courteous entertain childlike tête-à-tête. On the contrary, I seemed to enjoy it. Thank you.

I am Sorry.

Accepting a simple invitation was indeed an agreeable mistake. It led to an opportunity to get to know the naïveté beneath your sometimes-somber personality. I admit it would never be easy to face the fact that time comes to pass and there was a need for goodbye’s for the earlier hello’s. The good nights and the good mornings that were something to look forward everyday had to come to an end. I hesitated because you did too.

I am Sorry.

I pity you for the times you said that you were happier and being “yourself” whenever you splurge time with people outside your clique. You mentioned that there was no pressure (the type I don’t comprehend much) at all.  I could still remember, one late night evening, you send me a note that you were inspired that I got curious about it. A short dialogue was entertained but it did not lead to a conclusion as to where does motivation come from. In the end, there were a dozen of what I call, effortful flowers I didn’t expect to receive.

I am Sorry.

The queries that seem to be unusual during knowledge assessment were honey to my bee. You are so affable that I could not brush off the idea of hidden agenda. One incident led to another and before I knew it, I tripped off to an edge of sanity. You’re nonchalant, gallant, and I fell into the trap of admiration.

I am Sorry.

It has been XX months. The last time I heard about you was about The Club. From then on, everyday, literally, I would see your face from everywhere. The moment I wake up, I would check my phone, hoping you sent me an inquiry or just a simple greeting. As I get myself dress to work, I would reminisce the moments I was excited in walking under the morning sun. And, lastly, as I let the wind kiss my cheek, I see you among the people I meet. I see your smile, and it just makes the day worth calling it one. Call it insanity and I would respond, maybe.

I am Sorry.

It hurts the most that by a string of words, everything went down to scratch. I wouldn’t even assure myself that you can keep secrets. I am sorry; you were just too good for me. I did a familiar feat and am proud to found a friend I will always keep even if I change my name.

I am Sorry.

I know there must be something behind those actions. I may be haughty and conceited but I am not dim-witted. It just hurts to know that the feeling may be mutual but you are not hu(man) enough to stand up for what you want. And I say it again, I am Sorry; for now, you’re just worth the tears. 

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11/30/2009