A Two-page Letter to Jun

By the time you get this letter, it may not be a secret anymore about what I really feel for you. For a long time now, I have wanted to tell you about it. I was waiting for the right chance to tell you, yet I couldn’t find enough courage to do so.

This might be the easiest way – although, it’s not easy at all – to tell you. Through this, I may be able to express my emotions – to say whatever there is that I need to say.

From the day we met, I have praised you for your being. Although, we haven’t known each other well, you’ve shown me gentleness and compassion. Through your actions, I was very impressed with your dealings. I always find it hard to trust a stranger… but with you, the word trust was like counting 1-2-3… and I thought, maybe when you love – when you give love – it won’t be that hard, too. I was never sure of my emotions, until such time when I moved to a house right next to yours.

We were able to spend much time together – something that I hoped would happen. We get to eat together, joke together, jam together. It was fun – not because of the laughter, the jokes, and stuff – but because I found contentment whenever I’m beside you. That was when I realized my feelings had grown deeper. It grew deeper that it was too late for me to cut it off.

And so, I kept it a secret inside myself. I tried to hide it, act normal, and tried to be neutral most of the time… until I found it hard to keep it anymore. I shared it with some friends and they thought of me as a very strong person for keeping my sane while I fall deeply in love with you. For so many times, I’ve wished you’d tell me how you feel about me, too, but it never came.

I still filled myself with contentment whenever you give me a hug or hold my hand or kiss my nape or ask me about my thoughts on love… because I hoped that once you’d learn about it – about my perception on love – you’d think of ways on how to get into my heart… but it never happened.

I wish you’d remember the time when I was sitting at the footsteps of your door, facing outside. I was talking with common friends when all of a sudden you sat behind me, kissed my nape, and hugged me… and I was too shocked to even say a word.

I wish you’d remember the time when I was watching TV in your house. It was one of the moments I could never forget when you suddenly asked me to sit up straight, and then you laid down on my lap without saying a word.

I wish you’d remember when we were watching a movie, still at your house, when you held my hand. You never said a word, but I still let you held me because I know, it would be one of the rarest things that would ever happen to us.

I wish you’d remember our first fight, when we were eating outside the house (pica-pica style). I asked you about your work and you didn’t answer. Instead, you went inside the house and never came back, and I was left alone. After that incident, I didn’t talk to you for days.

I wish you’d remember the first time you hated me because I didn’t greet you good morning when you gave me one. It took us days before we talked to each other.

I wish you’d remember the day when you asked me to massage your back and I willingly did it because I felt like giving you the care any woman would do to her man. I took extra effort to make you feel better, like caressing you, touching your hair, and humming a lullaby until you fell asleep.

And I wish you’d remember how I made that desert with compassion and love…. because I want to satisfy your appetite.

I’ve always wanted to satisfy you because that’s the only way I could show my love – my unconditional love… and not ever did I wish for you to return the love and care that I’ve shown you because you’ve already given me an ecstatic feeling when you show me satisfaction and contentment. I only want you to love me with your own version of loving.

And so those thoughts haunted me. Those thoughts gave me the reason to ask myself… Does he like me? Does he see me the way I see him? Does he love me as much as I love him? These questions remained unanswered until now. I’ve wanted to ask you these questions, but whenever I get the chance, I always end up jittery and scared.

Now that I had the chance to say what I’m feeling, I’m not going to let that chance slip away. I have to tell you, and it wouldn’t matter how you’re going to go about it. I had to get rid of whatever is inside me that I have for you… because if I won’t let it go, then I’d forever regret for not taking the risks of telling you that I love you. Yes, I love you…and I have loved you from the day that I’ve known about you – the day I knew about your being… and it will remain in me.

And the other night, when you came home with somebody, I was torn apart. The chances of “you and me” has been mystified. I was shattered to pieces and it was hard for me to pick them up for I only have myself to pick those pieces up. Then you introduced me to her… “This is Mitch. A friend.” And so my heart died.