THAT’S WHEN by Aedan Jefferson D. Tropa
I
remember having my very first crush when I was in first grade.
He was seated at the second row. I sat near the window where I occasionally stole glances at him–at his fine and charming face in the middle of recess while everyone was busy chit-chatting with their own friends. It was unexplainable why and how I got a pash on him that suddenly grew from my still-innocent body. I shrugged it off, forgetting about him until we met again in fifth grade, becoming his seatmate before leaving elementary. He was still the subject of my musings but I drifted away from him, carrying a secret deeply buried in my heart that has already decayed and rotten somewhere. That was when I figured out that I was good at bottling up my feelings and letting it float to the sea, towards a shore inhibited by silence and isolation, where the invisibility cloak was the fashion trend throughout the year. Fast forward to my second year of high school when I told two girls that I liked them some time in the first year, which I could not recall until a friend of mine brought it up a year later while pushing our circle to reveal who were their happy crushes in class. 42
DAPITAN
