Tags: Diary Entry, Romance (?), Self-discovery, School Life
Trigger Warnings: Suicidal Thoughts

She, who discovered her feelings and the true colors of the person she loved. 

I think I’ve been in love before, but I don’t think I could ever let myself be in that state again. 

Supposedly, it was only a little puppy love, as there was some teasing from classmates and I found myself always being by his side due to serendipitous circumstances. I enjoyed his company since he understood my hobbies and accepted my peculiarities to boot. I’ve never felt so accepted and understood until that moment. 

Just imagine, I’ve been a victim of ostracism almost my entire life just because they couldn’t understand me but my family, of course; however, that is another thing altogether. I never did them any wrong, nonetheless, it didn’t matter, since I was different. It didn’t help that my brain processes information differently. Everything that came out of my mouth was the result and never the process or context, therefore, if I spoke about something, all of them were nonplussed and straight out left me in the dust, never asking what I meant or why I answered that way. 

After being treated that way for years on end, I started to get distraught and desperate for attention. That was when I began to change myself to cater to people. Unfortunately, I was naive and never thought that far about what could happen from this asinine initiative and what I was wasting away: my true self. 

I started acting out like an idiot, trying to fit in with the class and laughing at every possible situation that I got into. Somehow, it made me closer to several people, but it was exhausting to the point that I always got the hell out of dodge when I became overwhelmed by all these uncomfortable stimulations; scrutiny, laughs behind my back, and especially, a hidden fear of voices when I couldn’t make out the words. 

I cried and cried, and cried, asking myself: “Why are you trying so hard?”

It was a thing of the past, however, and I already knew better; but sometimes, you couldn’t just help yourself but dwell on it, you know—looking back to your past and reflecting on your actions that led to what you have become. And a person who became afraid of love is what I’ve become, thanks to him. 

He was a tall youth who liked sports, and I appreciated that since I was a sporty youth as well. He liked basketball and I liked volleyball. If not for my eyes having problems, I could have continued being part of the team, but you know, it is what it is. I stopped doing the sport I liked and started a new hobby, which I came to love—writing. 

Imagining every possible scenario and putting them into words intrigued me. Think about it—mere words that were excruciatingly put together could make a world of its own. It was simply amazing. 

And that was what I did, though, smaller in proportion. It was a small wish, but never really expected it to be granted as it was something akin to a passing thought. But, a passing thought was still something you could think of for hours on end if you recall it. And after recalling it, you could never stop doing it again and again. Therefore, I wrote short entries about what had happened between us, regarding them as something I could read back to when I felt down. 

It helped a lot; until it didn’t.

In the end, he betrayed my trust. He betrayed our companionship, and he betrayed himself. 

I was an idiot; I could have noticed the signs, but my brain and heart decided to turn a blind eye. I trusted him too much and thought that he knew better, but reality slapped me so hard that it jolted me awake. 

It broke me and steered me into insanity. I wanted to end it all, my appreciation for him, my studies, my relationships, and even my life. 

After that, I became uncertain if what I felt for him was love. If this was love, why was it so painful? Isn’t love supposed to feel warm and bubbly? Isn’t love supposed to make you happy and excited? Why did it feel like I was falling into an unending abyss with the darkness agonizingly swallowing me whole? 

Did I really feel love for him? Did I unconsciously treat him as someone I cherished? 

I never really noticed, until I did. I never felt my whole world being destroyed until that moment. 

It was agony, it was madness, it was simply a massacre to the mind and heart. 

I kept mum, and no one knew about my pain. It was a silent war against the world. Fate was such a bitch, and he was a bastard. 

He might have thought that it was a small matter since it was a bet with his friends, but was it really? A small matter? A matter that they could joke and laugh loudly with? A matter they could go back to with amusement? 

Would anyone think of using someone else’s feelings as a small matter?

I felt the world slowly turn for a moment and I almost lost my footing with reality. It was merely something he used for a bet. A freaking bet!

My feelings for him became a joke. It was laughable, to him anyway. All that appreciation to him fell down the drain. Recalling all those wasted efforts and happiness with him enraged me. Angry at him, then angry at myself, thinking that how could I let myself be in that state because of a person who I came to cherish. Who was I to love someone who accepted me for who I am?! 

Who gave me the courage?!

Oh, him.

I was the subject of their bet, whether I would fall for him and accept his invitation to a two-person event or not. After discovering the truth, it dawned on me as to why he was so understanding and accepting of who I was. I looked an easy prey to them. 

Well, who wouldn’t? 

I wonder how I looked to them—a person vulnerable to everything associated with intimacy. No wonder I fell so hard and easily, they were used to these… shenanigans. 

I was this close to giving in to his antics. Fortunately, I found out. 

Fortunately, I found out.

I fell in love before, but I don’t think I could ever let myself be in that state again.