Nakakagulo

Never Meant To Be

2007-04-03T00:22:00.000-07:00

That following September, school began once more. I entered my third year in college expecting the worst—the hardest classes, the most laboratory time, etc. I was ready for it. I made sure that I had no other obligations. Later on, however, I found myself involved in writing the next culture night’s script with the cultural chairperson of the Pilipino student organization. So much for more free time.

When the school year began, the school held another “Block Party” on the first Friday. The student organizations and student resource centers would gather on the main street leading into the school and set up booths for students to browse while they wait and watch entertainment on the main stage. Having had some time before I needed to go home that day, I decided to visit the booth of the Pilipino organization.

I stayed at that booth for a while, even helping with a few outreach attempts towards the incoming freshmen. After an hour or two, I decided to leave to go home so that I could hang out with my old high school friends like a usual Friday.

On my way to my car, I dropped by the booth for the local hip-hop dance troupe to say hello to some friends, including Kyleen. I still had a soft spot for her, so I decided to go look for her. When I got to their booth, there she was, next to the table. She greeted me and we gave each other a friendly hug. Then, she said something to me that made me stop in my tracks.

She informed me that Jackie and Lysette were there. Kyleen had actually just told the two of them to look for me at the Pilipino student organization’s booth, where I had been a few moments before. All I could say was, “Really?”

She pointed me back towards the direction from where I came, and so I turned back to look for Jackie and Lysette. I was not exactly sure why I was even looking. I did promise Jackie in my letter that I was no longer going to attempt any contact with her. But, my legs were already carrying me back to the Pilipino organization’s booth.

Before I knew it, I was back, saying hello to more friends that I had not seen earlier. I took a quick glance around, and then quickly resolved to leave again. Jackie and Lysette were nowhere to be seen, so I just gave up the search that I did not even want to take part in.

I turned back towards Kyleen’s booth just to tell her that I had not seen Jackie or Lysette. Then I said goodbye accompanied by another hug.

Without hesitation, I walked to my car. I did not turn around. I did not look back. I had no reason to do so.

Later that night, after having gotten home from hanging out with my old friends, I uploaded the pictures that I had taken that day onto my internet photo web log. That photoblog entry is long gone now; I just erased it a few weeks ago to make room for future photos.

As I was deleting my old entries, I came across the one for that day and read what had originally been written by me. It said:

“Some interesting information was given to me today, and I waited for something. It did not happen.”

That pretty much sums up everything that ever happened in this story. I was always enticed by something, prompting me to wait. Whatever I had waited for, however, never arrived. I waited for so long for something that was never going to come.

I would not call it a waste of my time, though. I do not regret anything that I did, even if I did not initially like the outcomes. I like to think that how I turned out was better than what I used to be.

If I had a chance to do so, would I do it all over again? No. And, if I had to, I would not change a thing. My past makes me who I am today. I am quite satisfied with that.

Summer Meeting

2007-03-30T00:57:00.000-07:00

I do not know exactly what it was that prompted me to do it, but after my second year of college, I contacted Jackie once more. I wrote her a letter. It was a long letter. Handwritten, it was four pages long. It reminds me of the song with the same lyrics: “I’m writing you a four page letter…”

What did I write? I no longer remember. I must have said some sorries in there, and also reminded her that I had forgiven her, but it was still difficult to forget a few things. I told her everything that I had wanted to say from the first day to the last. I told her how I felt about her after high school, and what it felt like once more to have contact with her just five to six months before that moment.

Maybe the reason I do not remember it all is because the words are no longer important to me. What mattered was that I made contact.

I also sent her a copy of the long poem that I had written because I felt like it described what I was feeling and thinking better than any other words that I could have said to her. Whether or not she was able to understand the Tagalog verses of it is a mystery to me.

The one thing that I distinctly remember telling her in that letter was that I wanted to see her once again, even if for just one day or one minute. In fact, I told her when and where I wanted to see her, in a neutral location free from memories. I also informed her that it was up to her whether she wanted to show up. My conditions were simple: she could meet me at the prescribed location at the prescribed time or she could just ignore it. If she did not show up, I promised her that I would no longer try to contact her in any way; I would forever step out of her life and that letter would be the last she ever heard from me.

I folded the pages together and sealed them in an envelope addressed to her house, assuming that she had not moved since graduating from high school. Knowing that she went to school to one of the nearby colleges, I felt it safe to assume as much.

After placing the stamp on it and slipping it into the mail slot, all I could do was wait. My plans were to meet her on a Wednesday afternoon the week after at a coffee house. After that was anybody’s guess.

One day later, I received a phone call. It was Jackie. She was calling my cell phone. Not knowing the number on the display, I picked it up, feeling that maybe it could have been her, which actually made me more reluctant to answer.

“Hello?”

She answered on the other end of the line and informed me that she had received my letter. Her tone was steady. Mine was nonchalant.

Then, she informed me that she was busy that coming Wednesday and asked if we could move the day. I was open to any suggestion as long as the conditions still held true. She asked if we could instead meet the day after—Thursday—so I obliged her request.

“Okay,” I said to her. “I’ll see you then.” And just as quickly as the call had come, the conversation ended.

Those were my very last words to her. I still felt some bitterness towards her, so I wanted to cut the call short. I preferred to talk to her in person rather than over the phone. After all, that was what I stated in my letter. I was going to stick to it, especially now that she had requested a change of days, herself.

I did not tell her that I would call her back, nor did I tell her that I would call her that following Thursday. What I said was all I said. “I’ll see you then.”

Again, I waited.

The week passed along well enough. I would go to school during that summer to tutor summer school students. A few regulars had begun frequenting the tutoring center to escape the heat and use me to their advantage. I did not mind. My pay was reasonable and the air conditioning was free. Some of the students I tutored were becoming more than just acquaintances, so my time was not wasted.

The Thursday came, and I went to the prescribed meeting location. I ordered a vanilla crème blended drink and sat down at a table near a window, facing one of the doors. I sipped my drink and opened my book. Then, I simply let the time pass, reading and waiting.

After one hour, I was still one of the only customers inside, still reading my borrowed book and sipping on my drink.

Two hours passed. Then three hours. The fourth hour came, and there was still no sign of Jackie. I did not understand why she would call to change the meeting date and not show up. But, on the other hand, I fully understood that if she no longer wanted to see me, she was never obliged to do so ever again.

I managed to get halfway through Dan Brown’s Da Vinci Code that day, eventually finishing it the day after because its story was just so exciting.

As the fourth hour closed, I closed my book and stood up. I threw my drink in the trash as I walked out of the coffeehouse and admired the color in the sky. Next-door was a fast food Italian restaurant that had a drive-thru. As I drove out of my space, I headed for the drive-thru window and then drove directly home.

That was that. I never called or wrote Jackie again. In return, she never called or wrote me either. I am still fulfilling my end of the prescribed conditions that I will no longer have anything to do with her life.

It felt like such a sad ending to such a long story and a major part of my teenage life. Stories never ended that way in movies and on television. There was always something more exciting. My story, however, merely ended like the predicted end of the universe: not with a bang, but a cold chill.

That September, I turned 20. I was no longer a teen. I also began my third year in college, soon to involve myself in the most daunting of the upper division physics classes required for my degree.

I just could not believe that it was finally over. And, just like after everything I finish, all I could do was sit back and wonder what was to come next.

The Next Verse

2007-03-29T01:53:00.000-07:00

The end of the spring quarter was drawing near (2004), and so was my second year of college. It also meant that my second quarter of Tagalog class was ending, and our final presentations were coming up that June.

The quarter before, during winter, our Tagalog 10A class had to do group presentations in the form of skits using the Tagalog/Filipino that we had learned. This spring quarter, our Tagalog 10B class had to do the same, using the more complicated verbs that we learned. In addition, the Tagalog 10A class that was also being taught concurrently had to do their own skits/presentations during the final day.

To add to my final presentation, the professor personally asked me to do lyrical piece for the final day. My classmate was also asked to sing a song in Tagalog that day. We agreed, knowing that we were probably the most fluent in the class (which may have been a bit unfair to the curve).

I debated with myself on which piece I should do, because during the regular class, I had already submitted a few Tagalog pieces (rhythmic poetry) that I had written as part of our “laboratory” assignments. I decided to go with the only other piece I had up my sleeve, which was my story about my time with Jackie. (See “My Solace” 2007.03.12 and “Sunny Rain” 2007.03.19)

The problem I had, however, was that the second part of the piece was all in English, and I was in a Tagalog class. Quickly I worked on a translation/new piece that would go well with the first verse. Here is what came about:

Kinalimutan kita; dalawang taon nilampasan
Nakarating ang panahon na di na kita inaasahan
Pero biglang pinag-alala ng iyong kaibigan
Noong isang araw na di na kita pinag-iisipan
Sumulat ka ng liham; pinaliwanag mo sa akin
Kung bakit ka ganoon noon, at sa’kin ay inamin
Bumalik ang gunitang bulok at naintindihan ka
Pero ayaw ko naman itong matapos na masama
Kaya ngayon naman pinagbibigyan kita
Gusto ko lang kasing malaman kung mabuti ka pa
Alam ko naman kung saan ka nag-i-eskwela
Kailangan ko lang yata na ika’y aking makita
Ng aking mata, kahit ‘sang beses man lang
Para magpaalam at masabi ko ang
Nasa aking utak na ukol sa’yo
Kasi lahat nito’y talagang nakakagulo

Roughly translated, it reads:

I forgot you (intentionally); two years went past
The time came when I no longer longed for you
But suddenly your friend gives a reminder
The one day when I no longer thought of you
You wrote a letter; you explained to me
Why you were that way before, and you admitted to me
Rotten memories returned, and you were understood
But I don’t want this to end badly
That is why I am forgiving you now
I just want to know if you are still doing well
I already know where you go to school
I just think that I need to see you
With my eyes, even just one time
Just to say goodbye and to say what
Is on my mind about you
Because all of this is really confusing

This is where the title of this whole thing actually comes from, “Nakakagulo.” The whole piece put together, the first verse, the English parts, and this part, are collectively entitled, “Talagang Nakakagulo,” which means really confusing, when used in that context.

It is what I honestly felt for her at the time, and I did not know that all of it would come out that way and in those words. It was a very short summary of what had happened since I last spoke with her during high school: I forgot about her, her friend reminds me of her, she writes me to explain what she did, and then old memories return. I went on to describe the fact that I did not really want things to end the way they already had—with some sour emails from me to her. All I really wanted was to see her again, say goodbye if need be, and just talk, because it really was confusing.

The confusion was originally between Adrienne and Jackie. Afterwards, however, the confusion was because I did not know if Jackie really liked me or not. Towards the end, I was simply confused about what to do with her, because I finally knew her reasons, but there was no way to take anything back. It really just sums everything up until that point.

I ended up performing the Tagalog portions of “Talagang Nakakagulo” in front of both Tagalog classes on the day of the final presentations, commenting that for the people that cannot understand, it was okay, because it just kept me safe (from them knowing about my past). The most interesting thing to me was that Kyleen was in the room (part of the Tagalog 10A class), while I was performing the piece. I knew that she probably did not understand a single word I said, and if she did, she probably did not know that the friend I was referring to was her.

In a way, I wanted Kyleen to know what was going on, so that she could laugh along with me at the irony, and at the same time, so that she could maybe help me. On the other hand, I did not want her to know because it would have complicated things between us. From how she spoke to me, and how nonchalant she was about talking to me about Jackie’s whereabouts, I knew that Jackie had probably not told her anything about me. I suspected that even at that time, Jackie had probably not told a soul about me.

I respect her decisions about that. It was too weird of a story to share with anyone. I doubt that she had even told Charmane or Lysette about me; it was even more unlikely that she told her older sister or mother. She was the one who wanted them to think that the two of us had met through a friend, rather than AOL. Furthermore, I doubt that I even played a big enough role in her life to mention me to anyone. That thought kind of makes me a bit sad, but it is her business, not mine.

I do appreciate her efforts to reconcile things with me in the first place earlier that December, no matter how difficult I may have been to communicate with. That gesture meant that I at least was a big enough part of her story that I warranted an explanation, even if it was only in the form of an email. That is probably the thing that I respect about her most—her effort to reconcile matters with me, under her own volition.

In the past, it was always me who had to provoke a conversation out of her; I was the one who put in the effort to talk and communicate. That time around, however, she was the one who struck first. I never thanked her for doing that, although I did thank her for explaining things to me.

She changed my life, and my perspectives on life, just by being a part of it. I guess that is the most I can ask out of her. I am glad that her experience with me also prompted her to change for the better (so she says).

After further thinking, I resolved to attempt a final contact with her that summer, so that I could finally say my “goodbye” to her, and tie up any loose ends. That was the only thing left for me to do, I thought, so that was exactly what I did, or at least tried to do.

Then And Now [Part 2]

2007-03-29T01:00:00.000-07:00

The night of the induction banquet that late May 2004 (around Memorial Day weekend), I arrived with my date, Francine, with our matching brown and pink attire. It was no doubt that she was one of the most beautiful underclass(wo)men there. Her choice of outfit also made me the only guy that night to sport a fully pink dress shirt, which I was not at all embarrassed to wear because of the person who had been on my arm—after all, I had to get a shirt that matched the brown and pink tie.

My friend John (not his real name) arrived in full banquet attire with Kyleen, sporting a baby blue/turquoise scheme. I was not at all jealous of them, because I already had a wonderful date of my own, but if anyone had been paying attention, I did steal glances towards Kyleen whenever I could. I still had some attraction to her, and it was not only because of her looks.

We all ate the buffet-served food, and then inducted the new board members. I passed the candle to the next Academic Chairperson, signifying the passing of the torch. Afterwards, we danced the night away, taking some pictures in between. It certainly was the prom that I never attended in high school, because this time around I had a date with me.

After dancing with Francine for a while, we took a rest. It was a little obvious that someone else had wanted to ask her out before I did; I was just the one who did it first. In fact, I knew that there were at least three other guys that wanted to ask Francine before me. One of them, however, was able to steal her away from me for most of the night—they were closer friends with each other, and I knew I was partly in the way, so I let them have their time.

In the meantime, I stole someone else’s date away—that someone being my friend John and the date being Kyleen. It seemed that he was mingling with the older crowd, knowing that he was about to graduate soon, so he took his last moments to heart. In a way, then, everything worked out just fine: my date got to hang out with her close friend who had wanted to go with her in the first place, and I got to hang out with Kyleen, who I originally wanted take to the banquet.

We danced for a long time thereafter, only taking a one break after a long stint on the dance floor. It was just how I wanted it. She was a great dancer, of course, having been part of the hip-hop dance troupe, and it made it even more fun to be around her at the time. Really, she was just a very nice person overall (some people may even say that she is too nice). All of her wonderful characteristics just made being around her even better.

One of the most interesting things that I realized as an afterthought was that four years prior (April 2000), the scene was very similar, except that I was dancing with Jackie—one of Kyleen’s best friends in high school. After having realized that, I just had to laugh to myself. During my sophomore year of high school, I found myself dancing at a formal with the very attractive Jackie, and then four years later, during my sophomore year of college, I was dancing with Jackie’s very attractive friend, Kyleen. I almost felt guilty about it. (Notice the keyword there is “almost”.)

I knew that I still liked Jackie somewhere deep down inside. As my friend would put it nowadays: I still had a soft spot for her. But, spending time with someone like Kyleen seemed to cure the pain. I knew there was no way that I would ever end up with Kyleen, as in a relationship, but it was still nice to pretend (to myself) just for one night.

These days, I still find it funny when I remember that night, and the situation I found myself in. It was a very funny coincidence that those events coincided with each other four years apart. What made that night even better, though, was that there was no mention of Jackie whatsoever, like there had always been between myself and Kyleen. It was almost as if the two nights were completely unrelated, but destiny just has a funny way of working things out like that.

In the end, I took my date home and my friend John did the same for his. All I had were simply memories and few pictures.

I have to admit, however, that afterwards (not immediately, but eventually), I thought about Jackie again. I still did not know what to do with her, or if there was even anything more to do at all. I was top-toeing around the idea of contacting her once more to make amends, and maybe even start over, feeling that the last words that I said to her may have been a bit too harsh. I was definitely regretting a few things then.

Then And Now [Part 1]

2007-03-28T23:47:00.000-07:00

The winter quarter passed, somewhat all too slowly on the personal portion of my life, and all too quickly on the academic side. It was 2004, and there were two years left before I graduated.

I decided to forget about Jackie from that point on, knowing that there was nothing really left for me to say to her. I may have just been lying to myself, though, because I knew that I wanted to see her still, at least to just see how she was doing, or maybe to just give a proper goodbye. I did not really know what I wanted. The hopelessly romantic side of me wished that fate would give me another twist so that I can just start over again. Lo and behold, a few months later, fate came answering, but the twist was not what I thought it would be.

Towards the beginning of the spring quarter of my second year in college, I had already started hanging out more with the local guys. I had made new friends and acquaintances because of the cabinet position I held with the local Pilipino student organization. It was really a different experience from high school.

Along with some of the soon-to-graduate seniors and a fellow second-year, we formed this so-called “observation deck,” which mostly was a close equivalent to what girls call “girl talk.” In plain terms, it was so that the guys could speak gossip and talk behind the backs of the girls (in the club). Its basis was really questionable to me, but what we discussed opened my eyes. There were things that I did not know about the other members that painted them in a whole new light.

Anyway, during one of our sessions out at the second local Starbucks (there were two within the same plaza, one block apart), someone got to talking about the upcoming banquet. It was an annual banquet to induct newly elected cabinet officers for the club—something I attended the year before (May 2003). This year, as it apparently happened every year, the guys started talking about whom they would be going with.

In short, it was our college equivalent to a prom/formal. I had asked someone the year before, but failed to acquire a date. I went alone, and it was an okay experience. Because I had gained new ties within the club and knew more people my second-year, I was more than willing to try again. The discussion amongst the men boiled down to whom would be the perfect date. (Come to think of it, this may have happened at someone’s house rather than at the Starbucks.)

Everyone started spitting out the names of the most beautiful active women in the club, including a few that I had been “eyeing.” When it became my turn to give a suggestion (and a hint to which girl I would ask), I simply told the truth and said, “Kyleen.”

One of our older friends quickly reacted and ascertained my contribution to the discussion. He admitted that he had overlooked her because she was not as active as the other girls in the club, but she would definitely have been his first choice. Verbally, though, he “let me have” the opportunity to ask her first.

That May 2004, we collaborated with Kyleen’s hip-hop dance troupe and another club to throw a type of sports and dance competition weekend. It was the fourth of its kind. It was the same event where I saw Kyleen perform the year before, catching my attention. For the duties, I was assigned to make the programs that were to be handed out the night of the dance competition, along with a veteran member of our organization. Because of that position, I had very little contact with the rest of the planning committee, and very little contact with Kyleen.

The programs were made, better than the years past they said, and we had our sports/dance weekend. That weekend, we even held a mini competition at the lobby area (of the recreational center) that was fashioned after “Fear Factor.” We had a Red Bull container filled with ice and we were to see who could hold their fist in it the longest. Kyleen actually had the record for the “first round” of trials/qualifications. I believe she sat there for over an hour with her hand in the ice water. (Because I was part of the programs committee, I had a lot of time on my hands to do nothing, with everyone else having been assigned to keep scores at the football and basketball games.)

Kyleen had to go, holding the record. She was unable to “compete” during the second/final round. I was actually looking forward to it in hopes that I would get to compete with her. Long story kept to a minimum, I got into the final round, along with two handfuls of people. We had to keep our hands in the ice, while standing in the middle of the lobby. Then we were given tasks: stand on one leg, carry a can of soda in the other hand, drink and open the soda using that one hand, etc. In the end, I came out the winner. For it, I won $14 and a free event t-shirt (the shirt that everyone used to thaw their hands off).

During the night of the dance competition (Saturday), I waited to make my move to ask Kyleen to the banquet. Before I could do so, my older friend came to me (the one who had wanted to ask her first), and he told me that he already asked her a few minutes beforehand. He could not resist, he said, because the subject came up. I forgave him and congratulated him on being able to have her agree. In turn, I went to the girl who had been second on my list. I asked her and she said yes.

I was a little bummed that Kyleen was not going to be my date for the banquet. And, maybe also a little relieved because it may have been a bit weird with the two of us sharing a mutual “friend” in Jackie.

Sunny Rain

2007-03-19T23:48:00.000-07:00

After ending our correspondence with each other, I was inspired to write some more, albeit it took some time before I actually put these words to paper. Just like how I originally found solace in poetic retreat after we first lost contact with each other with our “falling out,” I again turned to poetry to let off some heat. What came out of my head is what follows—a glimpse into my mind after finally having some of my last few words with Jackie:

It’s like rain on a sunny day,
‘Cause when I look in your eyes,
I realize I was treated a bad way.
You did it, purposely.
Was it to hurt me?
Or was there another reason why I just could not see?
The hate in your eyes or the fault that I did?
I thought that thing we had was just so candid,
Until you handed me my heart back in a platter,
And when it splattered on the ground it made a sound,
That’s when I found out:
It wasn’t my fault, I wasn’t to blame.
It turned out that you were the one left ashamed
To be around me
But when you met me, it wasn’t like that,
Until we evolved and moved on from internet chats.
But I won’t take it back, ‘cause those were the best times:
The times that we spent, not the times that we didn’t.
But, even if I did, I would do it again,
‘Cause not giving you a chance is like committing a sin.
I can’t deny it.
Even when I try to hide it, I get excited.
Even when I try to suppress it, I cannot fight it
All the voices all in my head just couldn’t keep quiet.
Then they metamorphosed
To something bigger and bigger—all of the things to remember,
But I grew stronger and stronger till I remembered no more.
When you’re no longer insane, somebody mentions her name,
So then the cycle remains, and again the same game.
Damn! What am I to do, when I see you?
In the crowd amongst the people that I hold true?
Not you, I’m talking ‘bout the people around you,
Thinking back to the times when I thanked God I found you.
Not anymore, but let me think it again:
Do I really want to take you back as a good friend?
I don’t want you to do what you did to me back then,
Taking my heart back to the grave that you buried it in.

My Solace

2007-03-13T00:00:00.000-07:00

I found solace in my writing. More specifically, I found solace in my poetry. Immediately after the events that unfolded years ago (before I started college), I composed a lyrical, rhythmic piece addressed towards Jackie in Tagalog that explained what I had been going through:

Dati ko pa ‘tong iniisip sa aking utak
Kapag ika’y ngumingiti, parang ika’y bulaklak
Maganda ang itsura, matamis pa ang amoy
Buksan mo ang pinto at ako ay tutuloy
Sa iyong puso, maramdaman mo lang ginhawa
Akala ko nga ikaw ang tangi kong kasama
Matalino na, kay-tamis at ang bait
Ang ating panahon sana aking mauulit
Hindi ako nagalit noong di mo ‘ko natawagan
Sa telepono ng bahay, maliit lang ‘yan na bagay
At ito naman, sa aking palagay
Ang ating mahal ay hindi mamamatay
Ako’y nagkamali kasi sa aking isip
Tingin sa aking buhay ay panaginip
Dalawa na nga’ng babae ang gumugusto sa akin
Pareho nilang alam at umiibig pa rin
Ama namin, ano pa ang magagawa ko?
Aking pangako, kahit ano hindi susuko
Sa aking siyota, pero pangako ko’y nasira
Ano pa ba magagawa ko para sa kaniya?
Wala, kaya sa’yo ‘ko humarap
At dahil sa’yo ako ay naghihirap
Hindi mo naman alam, hindi mo na nakita
Kung paano kita minamahal sinta

Roughly translated, it says:

I’ve been thinking about this in my mind for a long time already.
When you smile, you’re like a flower:
Beautiful in appearance, and the fragrance is sweet, too.
Just open the door and I will walk through
To your heart, as long as you feel the comfort.
I had actually thought that you were my true companion
Not only smart, but also sweet and kind.
Our time together, I hope I can repeat.
I did not get angry when you did not call me
On my house phone. That was just a small thing.
And, this, in my mind:
Our love will never die.
I made a mistake in my thoughts, that’s why.
I thought my life was a dream.
Two girls already liked me;
They both knew about it, but they liked me still.
Our Father, what else can I do?
My promise: whatever happens, I won’t give up
On my girlfriend. But my promise was broken.
Now what else can I do for her?
Nothing, which is why I turned to you,
And because of you, I am struggling.
You don’t even know. You never saw
How I was loving you, my dear.

It was a piece that Jackie was never going to read or hear for a while after I wrote it. It took two more additions, and two more editions, before I would give her the poem to read on her own.

Writing was simply a way for me to express what I felt to her without her having to hear my thoughts directly. Even though I never originally intended for her to hear my words, I felt better just having been able to release them from within.

Forgive...

2007-03-12T22:19:00.000-07:00

Jackie replied to me that following January of 2004. I really did not know what to expect more from her. She had already said sorry. I was still searching for an explanation, but I was not sure whether she would offer me that.

She told me she was a new person. There was no mention of trying to revive any type of relationship, nor was there any mention of anything for the future. She simply asked for my forgiveness for what she did to me.

I wondered how she took my reply to her initial contact with me. Looking back at that time, my words may have been quite harsh—actually, they were very harsh. That usually happened when I began to write; my truly intense emotions come out on the page. When I finally received her second email, however, there was no sign of an emotional reaction to my words.

She explained in purely simple terms why she had distanced herself from me: she had just gotten out of a bad relationship and could no longer trust guys. She felt as if they always hurt her, and she thought that the only way to be safe was to act like one. I had mentioned that her previous boyfriend before she met me had abused her. The boyfriend whom she had gotten together with after her birthday had practically been a nuisance. It was understandable that she would start to think how she did.

I understood her completely, with those simple words that she offered me. But, I still could not forget what she had already accomplished in doing. Although I could see why she acted how she did, I was not completely turned around by it; I was still feeling a sort of animosity towards her. I guess I let one thing get to me, which I was unable to fully comprehend: if she truly wanted to distance herself from me, why did she still act as if we could have had a great relationship with each other.

Maybe she was just being nice, but I thought that she should have at least been honest with me about it. I felt as if she had led me to believe that there had been hope between us, especially when she invited me to be her date for her Freshmen-Sophomore Prom that one year. If she really wanted nothing to do with guys as she had indicated in her email, then there should have never been so much contact between us, no matter how little contact we already had. It was precisely that confusing matter that I could not forget.

I informed her that I had forgiven her long ago, but the memories that she helped in reminding me could not fade so quickly. I knew that she had been hurt, but in her efforts to cure herself of her distrust towards men, I felt as if she had hurt me in the process. I could not think about her in the same light again. Her image in my head had become tarnished since that winter break.

There were a few more exchanges between us after that, to put together the last few pieces in the puzzle. This time around, however, I did not end up calling her or chatting with her online. The conversations were strictly by email with each other. No further contact was established, even though I knew that she attended the same university as a few of my friends and she knew where I had been attending college as well (literally the two closest colleges to each other).

Then, like magic, I started noticing Kyleen more and more at school again. She was still busy with her new hip hop dance troupe that she joined the quarter before, switching from her former modern dance group that had been associated with the university’s largest Chinese organization—she was now in a dance troupe that had stemmed from the Pilipino student organization on campus, so there was more contact between us.

Ironically, every time I had contact with Kyleen for any reason, she always brought up Jackie and her other friends, although I had been in the process of forgetting her again. It was explained to me that she was originally part of Jackie’s core group of best friends when they first started high school. The four of them—Jackie, Kyleen, Charmane, and Lysette—had been split once the new high school opened, closer to Jackie’s house. That explained why Kyleen had possession of my picture, which I still have yet to see to this day. It also explained why Kyleen always mentioned Jackie and her friends whenever she saw me.

Seeing Kyleen more often only intensified my drive to forget Jackie because every time Kyleen came into my sights, I would be reminded of the one girl that hurt me. I needed an outlet for my frustrations, no matter how unwarranted they may have been due to their pure insignificance to more pressing manners.

It Shows

2007-03-09T23:47:00.000-08:00

It was a freezing night in December, between Christmas and New Year’s Eve. Three of my best friends and I decided to have a small poker night at one of their mom’s warehouse/office to pass the time. After a few hours of play, with no money won or lost, we packed up and headed out, locking the office behind us.

Standing outside in the cold, we began talking. The conversation that came about, however, was out of the ordinary because of one thing: I was doing most of the talking. The reason: I began talking about Jackie.

I do not exactly know how I began talking about her, but it just happened. Finally, I let my friends in on my secret life that I had had for the past four years. Christian was the only friend there who had ever met Jackie beforehand or even heard about her. For my other two friends, everything was fresh news.

I told them my story—the ins and outs. The freezing cold got the best of us and we all entered my car midway through my words. I finished my story inside, reaching the point where Jackie sent me the Christmas email saying that she was sorry. I told them about my reply to her, and every other detail that had come before that moment: the way we met, the confusion, etc.

Then, I felt like crying. My voice trembled as I told the story, but no tears ever came out. I felt as if I was incapable of getting emotional even if I forced myself. I was finally having the breakdown that I never had back when it mattered more.

The pain returned to my chest—the same pain that engulfed me when I heard Jackie’s reply to my request from her years before. It was the same contraction that made my chest cringe when I first read her email days before Christmas. I felt that pain every time I remembered my own story. I still feel traces of it to this day, but it has become faint, like my memories.

My friends seemed to be on my side when I told my story; of course, it may have been biased. Also, my story was missing a crucial part: Jackie’s emotions. I still did not know how she had felt throughout all of this. I never knew what she was thinking. I never knew if she was telling me the truth. I never knew her reasons for doing what she admittedly did.

I only had to wait a few more days before she finally told me.

Merry Christmas

2007-03-08T13:50:00.000-08:00

With my luck, I never saw Kyleen again for the rest of that fall quarter. I kept telling myself that the next time I saw her, I would try to commandeer Jackie’s contact information, but the chance never came. I kept waiting for the opportunity, but in the end, I simply forgot.

The quarter passed and the same could be said about myself in my five classes. It was a surprise to me that I did so well that quarter especially with my busy involvement as a cabinet member and hectic schedule with back-to-back classes everyday. I even caught the flu at the end of the quarter, just in time for final exams. It was so bad that I could not drive myself home after one day of testing; my sister had to pick me up that afternoon, then I was dropped off the next day for my next exam. The sickness persisted until after finals week, which also prevented me from going to the winter retreat for cabinet members—I was one of only two people who did not attend.

With the fall quarter over, I had three weeks to do absolutely nothing. I caught up on sleep that I had lost during the past eleven weeks and also got over my flu. Christmas was nearing and I had no plans as usual.

On the 23rd of December that year (2003), I awoke from bed and went straight to my computer as I had gotten used to doing. It must have been before noon because there was still light on my side of the house. I checked my email and found the usual: junk mail, spam, and more junk mail. I deleted them all from my inbox except for one, which looked oddly mysterious. It did not fit the common characteristics of junk email—it did not have a weird subject line trying to sell me medication over the net nor did it have a purely unknown sender.

After having filtered out the unsolicited email from my inbox, I clicked on the mysterious email that found its way to my email account. At that split second before my right index finger landed on the left clicker of my mouse, I immediately had a suspicion from which person the email had originated. Once the thought completely formed within my brain, the page opened, confirming my intuition.

My first glance was at one phrase that had been typed in boldface font: “I AM SORRY.” I quickly glanced up at the sender’s address again, and then it hit me; it was Jackie’s old AOL screen name that I had already erased from memory.

As soon as I began reading, the emotions came rushing back in; except this time, the emotions were not characterized by joy and elation but by anger and betrayal. The email highlighted how she was sorry about how she had purposely tried to distance herself from me, not yet explaining why. It confirmed some of my old suspicions that she was indeed avoiding me—cutting telephone conversations short, minimizing contact, etc.

She also explained to me that it must have been some type of sign because that fall, she saw me twice within the span on one week. The local Pilipino student organization at her school in San Bernardino had had their first meeting on a Wednesday early that fall quarter. I attended as a representative from my school’s organization. She had apparently been there, but I just missed her during the meet-and-greet icebreaker. A week later, my organization had their first general meeting. I was so busy with what I had to do that I missed her within the crowd—she had attended with Kyleen, along with either Charmane or Lysette or both. She informed me that ever since then, she had been meaning to contact me.

What really affected me the most, however, was how she practically confessed to having purposely distance herself from me no matter how hard I tried to get close to her. It made me feel stupid that I even tried, especially for so long. I realized then that she lied to me. I did not know what was true and what was false anymore. Did she really feel anything towards me in the first place or was she just toying with me from the start? From what she wrote, it made me think that the latter was true, although I did not want to believe it.

I had yet to hear the full story from her, but I was already infuriated. I guess I felt as if my efforts from the past few years were moot. I realized that maybe I should never have wasted any time on her.

I wrote her a response, but out of courtesy, I waited until after Christmas to deliver it to her inbox. My reply to her email was quite harsh, thinking back on it. It was full of rage compared to how I used to approach her. Before, I used to be gentle when speaking/writing to her because I liked her and did not want anything to ruin that. That Christmas, everything changed: my true feelings came out at that moment and it became translated onto the computer screen.

Although she wished my family and me a merry Christmas and a happy New Year, I thanked her for adding to the unusual darkness of my holiday season. Christmas that year was probably one of the worst holidays I had ever experienced, in part because of her letter but also with contributions from other factors. I explained to her that during the time when I had no contact with her, I slowly began to see her on a higher plane of existence again. When I last called her during the remaining days of my senior year of high school, I felt as if she had already dug herself into a deep hole by avoiding me. Through the year afterward, I slowly started filling that hole again with the good memories that I remembered we had shared. The bad memories faded and only the wonderful moments remained. But, with her email that Christmas, the hole quickly sank again. Rather than pointing out our good times together, she highlighted the not-so-good thoughts I had of her.

I know that I may be thinking in circles now, but that was how my mind flowed at that moment. I wondered why she chose that time to say “sorry” to me. I wonder if she purposely did so around the end of December because she thought it would be a nice Christmas present. If so, it turned out to be the opposite.

After having sent her my harsh reply, I did feel a type of regret, but I brushed it off. My motto was never to regret anything because my past is what made me who I was, and I was satisfied with it. I wanted her to realize how I had been feeling inside all that time. I did not mean to make her feel extremely bad about having done what she did, I just wanted to point out to her that it would have been nice if she had just been honest with me from the beginning instead of leading me on to think that she still wanted to be close with me.

I just did not understand why she had done it yet. If only she had told me from the start how she really felt, then we could have skipped all of the pretending. It was not until a few weeks and months later when we finally reached a conclusion.

Picture This

2007-03-05T21:44:00.000-08:00

The opportunity finally came to meet her: my secret crush for the past year. It was not until my second year in college when I finally encountered her face to face.

I had been elected as an officer of the local Pilipino student organization on campus and became bound to their every event. I was a spearhead of a few things, and for others it was mandatory for me to come and participate. That October 2003, we were once again preparing for the annual “Friendship Games” to be held at California State University of Fullerton. It was an event where all of the Filipino college organizations would come together and compete in picnic games while networking with each other. As was custom, each organization would practice the games before arriving on the day of the event.

It was on a Saturday when I exchanged my first words with her. That morning, members of the organization met at our university’s student recreation center to begin practice for the games and the opening routine that each school would do for the “Roll Call.” While waiting outside for more people to arrive, a small group had already gathered on the steps of the gymnasium. Those who already knew each other could be seen in their little cliques talking amongst themselves. Because I was still new to the whole group, I stuck with the closest person I knew—a fellow cabinet member.

Just in front of me, I noticed a beautiful young woman sitting on the steps next to another cabinet member. They were talking as if they had known each other for quite some time. After a second glance, I realized that the mystery girl was the same as the one whom I had an eye on for the past year. It turned out that she was Filipina—not Chinese as I had originally assumed from her previous involvement with the dance group the year before. I immediately resolved that I would make my move when I had the chance. There was no better time than the present.

As more and more people came that morning, the time neared when we finally decided to begin. We had reserved a multipurpose room within the recreational center, so the spearhead of the event began moving people inside. I let a few people move ahead of me, trying to stay back long as I could to steal a moment with the mystery woman; however, she was engulfed in conversation with a female friend of mine, so I began to walk in front of them so that I could hold the doors open like a gentleman.

We were the last of the pack to enter the recreational center. I followed the last of the people who walked into the multipurpose room after having swiped our ID cards at the door, and then I waited for a moment for the two young women to catch up. I decided that I would say hello at the moment she passed me and finally introduce myself. As she walked in front of me while I held the door open, however, I could not say a single word because she had taken the opportunity to act before me.

“I have a picture of you,” were the first words out of her mouth directed towards me. At that moment, I was taken aback, surprised by the facts that just hit my face. My shock and surprise could be seen as I searched for the right words to respond, having been caught off-guard at that precise moment. She kept her smile as she passed me, turning her body to keep it in line with mine.

The only words that I could think of using as a response came out as, “What? How?” I could not understand how she could have possibly had a picture of me especially when I barely ever took pictures of myself during that time.

She answered my question and said, “You went to a dance with my friend.” Immediately it hit me that I did go to a dance with someone before, and the only person that could have been was Jackie. I never went to any other dance during my high school years. So putting two and two together, I concluded that this mystery girl was one of Jackie’s friends who I had yet to meet.

I learned that her name was Kyleen. I also learned that the world was smaller than I thought. I remembered at that moment that during one stint of online chatting, my friend Christian had encountered Lysette, one of Jackie’s best friends. Lysette had asked Christian if he had known whom I was after finding out where he had gone to school. With Kyleen, I realized that more people knew me than I could imagine.

I quickly forgot what I had originally intended to say to Kyleen at that moment. I knew that I was trying to introduce myself, but she had already known me. From that point on, all I could think about was how I could possibly get in touch with Jackie again—possibly through Kyleen.

Although I still was a little attracted to Kyleen, I resolved that I would first contact Jackie, even if I had already told myself to never call her again the year before. I said to myself that I would befriend Kyleen so that maybe she could lead me to the girl whom I had lost a long time before. After all, she had a picture of me that even I had never seen before even though I helped pay for it.

Welcome Freshmen

2007-02-22T22:12:00.000-08:00

I started college at the University of California in Riverside that fall of 2002. It did not really feel too different except that my classes were sparse, and I had to drive myself to and from school forty minutes each way, everyday.

I found my niche quickly. More accurately, I found a group to hang out with. It was long before I found my college self. I soon developed a routine for my Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and a separate routine for my Tuesdays and Thursdays. All I did that year was go to school, go to some club meetings to see some friends, and then go home and study. On weekends, I would hang out with old high school friends, so I also developed a routine for that.

There were plenty of new faces to see and meet, new girls to like, and many different cultures and peoples to adapt to. Most of the time, however, I would simply mind my own business as I walked the campus, ignoring all of the fraternity and sorority members handing out flyers for their upcoming parties. I tried not to interact with the students whenever I was out of class because I did not want anything to interfere with my first year of studies. College was expensive so I was not about to waste my time, even if the university was paying for my tuition fees.

All of my old acquaintances disappeared. My true friends were the only ones I kept contact with. With new people surrounding me, I was able to experience a new environment with incredible comfort. Also, with such a huge population, I was able to develop new crushes.

One of my crushes was this one fair-skinned girl with glasses of whom I saw plenty of on a daily basis. Our paths crossed many times in between classes. She would be walking with a backpack and some books in hand, never having noticed me. At one time, I believe that we even attended the same club meeting; however, there was no real moment when we were able to interact with each other.

It was during the winter and spring quarters of 2003 when I saw her most. During the spring quarter, the organization with which I was involved held a joint even with a hip-hop dance troupe and another smaller organization, which involved a basketball tournament and a dance competition. It was among the many events where I volunteered as an active member.

On the night of the dance competition, I finally found myself with nothing to do, having been assigned to guard the door and distribute programs for the start of the night. When I finally sat down, I saw a group of dancers take the stage, representing a branch of the local Chinese student group. The reason I remember noticing them is because of the girl that was involved in the dance routine—it was the same girl whom I had been noticing for months. She was apparently a member of the modern dance group.

I watched in amazement as she showcased her choreographed moves along with her fellow members. From what I recall, her group did not win, but she was the only one that I noticed that night. Automatically, I assumed Chinese-descent for her because of her affiliation, but I still knew nothing about her; I did not know her name, who she hung out with, or where she was from. I did not even know her level of education.

It was not until the following school year when I finally met her face to face, once I became a member of the local Pilipino organization’s cabinet.

I was not able to realize the relationship of this interesting encounter with the entire narration until we finally interacted with each other. She seemed like such an innocent person, unconnected to me. Little did I know, however, that she was to play a major role towards the finishing touches on my little love story. Once I found out who she really was, I realized that maybe there was such a thing as fate, at least in my situation.

Unending Cycle

2007-02-13T02:04:00.000-08:00

What happened thereafter was only a repeat of the past. I called Jackie and she would talk to me for a little bit. Then, she would have to go because her sister or mom had to use the phone, or some other reason. I would do it again the next day, but after a few calls and short conversations, I would stop calling.

Something would then recharge my brain and give me a reason to call her again. The same things would happen. I called, she talked, and then she went. I would give up just because I no longer saw any point in calling if there was nothing happening because of it.

That cycle continued for the most part of the remainder of the year. My junior year of high school began with the same cycle happening over and over. And so that was the year 2000.

Towards the end of that year, and around the first few days of 2001, I suddenly remembered that Jackie’s birthday was coming up again. I wondered to myself whether I should do something; maybe I should get her another present or maybe just give her another call. I then realized that I should probably just send her a birthday card—nothing too significant.

I visited the local Hallmark store and picked one out. I signed it after having written a few lines that I thought would be relevant to say to her. I do not remember exactly what I wrote, but I do recall that it had a certain tone towards it that made it quite obvious what I was still thinking about.

I sent the card to her home address, which was still in one of my notebooks after having written it down to go to her birthday party the year before. I waited for a response and went about my business.

A day or two after I sent the birthday card, I received an email from Jackie. That was a typical response from her—the email. She never once called me in return or made any other form of contact except for an email. This time around, however, “You’ve got mail!” was not my afternoon greeting. AOL was out of the house. MSN was the new provider. There were no more chat rooms to meet new people and only a few old “buddies” remained on the list.

Apparently, Jackie received the card the day after I sent it. Snail-mail was actually really fast—that was what went on in my head as I opened the message. It was a short letter of her surprise as to what was still inside my heart. I could not forget her and still hoped that there was more to our relationship. She realized that after having read the birthday message and did not know what to do, I suppose.

After that, we chatted more online, but not excessively. We shared a few words every now and again, and then I called her again, just like it was protocol. Again, nothing happened. We never met in person again. We just infrequently chatted or conversed over the phone. But, like all the other times, I got tired of nothing happening. I stopped calling and she stopped showing up online. That was just how it was: on and off. When it was on, however, it was just dim.

At one time, I actually remember asking her out on a date. She said yes, but with my luck and her nature, which I could not understand, the date never happened. She ended up taking a rain check on me because of having to go visit her grandmother, I think. I suspected that she was lying, but I could not confirm it. I just had to trust her words, as I always did. I never brought it up again after that.

My junior year of high school passed, and the cycle continued, except that the occurrences happened farther and farther apart from each other. It had been my toughest high school year, taking a myriad of advanced placement courses to join the other over-achievers. I came out of it with aces, and then got another free summer of idleness.

During my senior year, the cycle continued, but it happened less and less—I probably only called her twice or a few times that year. The conversations were so insignificant that I cannot even remember if I really did call her at all.

At the end of the year, around the month of May, badminton season had ended and our team held a banquet. I had been on the team for the last three years of my high school career. It was fun and I was better at it than basketball. I know it may be a “nerdy” sport by U.S. standards, but the way we played made it highly competitive. Anyway, the banquet was held at a Japanese restaurant called Tokyo Tokyo, two exits down the freeway from our high school.

I attended with my doubles partner and best friend Christian. The rest of the team came as well. No one had been absent. It was quite an interesting lunch because of a few new things that happened just recently. My friend Christian had hooked up with one of the younger members of the team named Nancy who had been a year under us. Her friend, Mary-Anne, on the other hand, had this crush on me. The reason I knew that was because of two things: my friend Christian had told me by way of Mary-Anne’s confession to him, and then Mary-Anne had told me herself. That relationship is another story, however.

While sitting at the banquet waiting for our food to be served, I was joined by Mary-Anne, who sat to my right, purposely. I felt somewhat uncomfortable around her initially because she had annoyed me earlier that season, talking with Christian as an excuse to get near me. I did not know exactly how I was supposed to interact with her, with both of us knowing that she liked me.

To avoid any awkward conversation and fill the air, I grabbed my cell phone and called Jackie. We had started talking again just around that time, so the call was routine, although out of the blue.

Jackie picked up the phone and asked who it was. After I explained who was calling, she then informed me that she was quite busy—she was going to watch a movie with her friend. Her friend, as it turned out, was a guy by the name of George maybe; I do not recall his name, but it really did not matter. After a few words of “Hello” and “How are you?” Jackie reminded me that she had been busy and was actually about to leave. She said that she’d call back, or maybe she had asked me to call her back. I just accepted her request to hang up and informed her that I would call her back.

After I hung up the phone, however, the first thing that I thought about was not calling her back. That had become the last straw with me. I was not angry with the matter; I was simply tired of it. I took the message that she was pushing me away, or avoiding me somehow, so I gave her her space. If she did not want anything to do with me, then I was going to grant her her wish. I resolved with myself that I was not ever going to call her again—ever. That was to be the last time that I ever dialed her number.

I went back to our little banquet and found some things to have fun about. I told myself that I was going to forget her from that moment on and live my life without ever thinking about her again. It had been the only real resolution that I had ever agreed to uphold. Nothing was going to make me undo my resolve.

That was what I thought, however, because once I started college that fall of 2002, I came into the university not realizing that life was inherently unpredictable. Little did I know that I was about to be handed some fruit from the tree of knowledge.

The Most Unforgettable Memory

2007-02-08T00:27:00.000-08:00

I lost contact with both Adrienne and Jackie from that point on. I no longer chatted with either of them online nor did I ever call Jackie thereafter. The only thing I thought about the rest of the year was anything that pertained to finishing my sophomore year of high school. I got through the remaining months of school relatively unscathed, except for a two-week relationship with another girl who lived even farther away from me than Adrienne did—Philadelphia; I broke off that relationship for the reasons that I had been just a rebound and it was only a relationship in name and not in practice.

The summer came and I was free to do anything again, as long as they were within my parameters as a fifteen-year-old. I hung out at the mall and chilled with friends during the summer months. We frequented Jack-in-the-Box and watched miscellaneous movies. There was nothing simpler, especially for me who had no other obligations except to live. I also had to attend summer school at the local community college, but only as preparation for AP Chemistry during my upcoming junior year. The other over-achieving students did the same. That class had been so easy for me that one of the older students in the class thought that it had been my major, but I informed him that I was still just a high school student.

My weekend routine had stayed the same: wait for someone to call with any hint of a plan and then roll with the punches. One time my friend Justin had called (or maybe it was the other way around). He and a few other friends, Mike and Patrick, were going to hang out at the mall and literally just do nothing there. In some ways, the four of us, along with a few other friends, had become the new, younger generation “F.O.B. squad” at the school. The word “F.O.B.” had been created in reference to people who had been “fresh off the boat,” meaning immigrants. At that time, it referred to the Filipinos who did not hang out with the larger “Filipino American” group, and those who spoke the language and otherwise were the “gangsters.” I was far from considering myself a “gangster,” but I had been close to the original group since before my brother had graduated at the end of my freshman year. My group took his group’s place as they all left.

I do not recall how exactly I got to the mall, but it must have either been Mike or Justin who picked me up. Patrick had already been at the mall with his girlfriend Stephanie, and we were to meet them up in front of the movie theaters connected to the main mall. It had been around sunset when we arrived and the tall shadows of the buildings shaded the walkway towards the theater entrance.

After having met up with Patrick and Stephanie, Stephanie then decided to go into the movie theaters to check on a few things. She had just recently been hired and had a few questions to ask the friendly folks of AMC Theaters. Because Patrick and Justin had been busy talking with each other, Mike and I were directed to look after Stephanie, so we followed her into the main lobby of the theater.

Stephanie entered the many doors before us. Mike walked ahead of me to open up a door and let me walk through first. I obliged his action and walked in behind Stephanie who had started talking to someone at the front desk. Mike followed behind and stood to my right, just a meter or two directly behind Stephanie. A few others walked in to actually watch a movie while a couple more people crowded the front counter.

On both sides of us, there had been nylon barriers preventing guests from freely walking to their desired movie without first presenting their tickets. To our left, however, were two females: one was a worker and another a potential worker or someone with a complaint. The theater employee had bent over the counter, which had been waist-high, in order to show some paperwork to the other young woman standing to her right, which was my left. Mike noticed this as well, obviously keeping an eye on our friend Stephanie with his peripheral vision.

Once Mike saw what I had been looking at, he actually let out a silent “hey” which prompted me to look at him for a second, though barely rotating my head. At this point, I may have already been staring for at least a minute or two.

A moment after Mike’s realization of the beautiful girl behind the nylon barrier, the very subject of our attention looked up towards the young lady standing beside her. Then, as if something had triggered her to notice, she looked in our direction. At first, this action surprised us both as we had been caught staring, but that was not what induced the most reaction out of Mike. The young worker tilted her head a bit, smiled, then waved hello in our direction. To be more specific, however, she waved in my direction. This caused Mike to say, “Oh,” and move back a half step. He looked at me, who had smiled back immediately with a slight nod, and then realized that I had known her.

Immediately, my heart started pumping faster and faster. I seemed to have gotten nervous when I realized exactly what was going on. When I first walked through the theater doors, it had already begun, but by the time she waved at me, my blood was rushing all throughout my body at an uncontrollable pace.

It was the first time that I was seeing Jackie in such a long period of time. I realized at that moment that I still had feelings towards her, and then everything else came rushing back. Oddly though, the bad things in my memory had been filtered out. I was just filled with great happiness and elation at the sight of her.

Before she finished her business at the counter, we were already walking out with Stephanie leading the way. We all went with our business after that, but I do not remember what exactly that business was. It was possible that we all walked into the mall and sat at the food court for a moment, and then visited GameWorks, which was adjacent to both the food court and the theaters. Of course, it was possible that all that time I just stayed outside with one of them, talking about something.

The late summer sun had set long before that and from what I recall it was nearing ten o’clock. All of the lights had turned on and a small line had formed at the exterior door of GameWorks. I walked outside next to one of the concrete benches that also served as a plant-holder. The bench had been facing one of AMC’s alternate exits. Justin walked with me. By then, Mike, Stephanie, and Patrick were inside the food court doing something else. The next thing I remember was Jackie running out from AMC and towards the main entrance of GameWorks. Justin noticed this also and made a comment that had something to do with me talking to her and Jackie being lonely. I cannot remember exactly what he said, but I do remember that he still liked how Jackie looked and persisted with me to hook him up with her if I was not going to do so myself. As she ran by, she noticed Justin and I walking, causing her to lock eyes with me for a split second.

Moments later, she walked out of GameWorks, still in uniform. As she walked towards me, Justin walked away, giving us some privacy. We greeted each other with a hug, as if we had known each other for a while, which we had, except discontinuously. We sat on one of the concrete benches and began to talk.

Facing an alternate exit to the theaters, I sat with a leg resting on the other while Jackie sat to my left cross-legged as children do during kindergarten story-time. Then, we just started talking. The conversational topics elude me, but I just remember feeling joy being next to her. Even now, remembering that moment, I yearn for something similar.

We probably sat there and talked for half an hour. She had apparently been running towards GameWorks to help her cousins with something. At that time she was on her break, so she decided to talk to me. Also, while we were talking, we noticed some people trying to enter the theaters through the alternate exit—it had become common for people to try to sneak into AMC that way. In the end, however, they were unsuccessful because someone from the inside had spotted them. Jackie paid them little attention because she knew that they were going to get caught anyway, especially if they were going to use that door to try sneaking in.

I forget the details but I do not forget the moment. My heart kept pounding in my chest, and that had been the only time up until that point in my life that I had that sort of experience. Before that, I thought that people’s hearts only beat faster in movies and television. Since I experienced it for myself, I became a believer.

I began calling her again after that. I think she even had a new screen name once we started chatting again. It was like the old days, when I used to call her at night and she would talk to me for some time then she would have to go for some reason or another. It was almost as if we had not skipped a beat when we restarted our friendly relationship. This time around, I had hoped for a better ending.

Is This the End?

2007-01-29T23:13:00.000-08:00

For a long time now, I have forgotten about everything. It no longer mattered. It no longer played a role in how I lived my daily life. But, now that I am revisiting my past and recounting what happened, the memories become vivid again—the same memories from which I have tried to escape for so long now. Even at this moment, I am dreading having to retell the entire incident for fear of becoming stuck within it again.

This is why it has taken me so long to get to this chapter in my story; however, there is no avoiding it. If I truly feel that it must be told, then I must tell everything.

What followed the dance was a week of hell for me. The dance only served to intensify my feelings towards Jackie and cause more confusion in my life.

That Sunday, I began to feel it more and more. After having slept so soundly with the best day of my life under my belt, I woke up with premonitions of the end.

The following Monday, I was completely quiet at school, even before my closest of friends. The same went for that Tuesday and Wednesday. My silence was so loud that even my friend who I walked with from day to day noticed the difference in my behavior. He asked if anything was wrong, but I shook it off as if nothing had bothered me.

The truth was that everything else was okay in my life except for my “situation.” What made my situation even more difficult was my chat with Adrienne around the beginning of that week, at the start of May. After nearly six months of being “together,” we had yet to see each other’s faces, but it just so happened that Adrienne and her family had a get-together, where she had the opportunity to take pictures. She took that chance to scan the photographs and send them over to me.

I finally saw what Jackie had looked like. She was beautiful, just as I had known. She had this cute face that somewhat resembled an old friend of mine and at the same time resembled the little girl from “Rush Hour” the movie—the one who got kidnapped after having sung Mariah Carrey’s “Fantasy” in the back of their car. The shallower side of me made me like Adrienne more because of those pictures, but a bigger part of me also felt a large amount of guilt towards her because of what had been going on inside my head.

We chatted like usual. I also told her about the dance and what I thought about it. But, like always, we had to cut our conversation short. It was rare for her to be online for even a short time. What is a little weird, however, is that around the time of the dance was when Adrienne and I had started talking with each other more often, as if she had just become more available for me to interact with her.

That whole first half of the week, I had the largest mental battle I had ever had in my life. I could not believe that such a thing was happening to me: two girls whom I had liked also liked me back…at the same time. It was like a dream come true for any other guy, but it had become a nightmare for me.

All of my friends around me who had known kept pressuring me to break up with Adrienne and pursue something with Jackie. That was the typical response whenever I had brought up my situation to anyone. No one I knew ever tried to tell me to stay with Adrienne except myself. In fact, Jackie, herself, was telling me to stay with Adrienne by then.

That Thursday, my situation had escalated (in my head). I had spoken to Jackie online and over the phone about the dance and what I had felt. I had also spoken to Adrienne about the dance and how I had this dilemma inside me.

It was 4 May 2000, after dinner. I was sitting in front of the computer chatting with Adrienne and a few other friends who were online. Adrienne and I had then got to talking about my “situation.” Adrienne kept telling me that if I really did like Jackie, then I should go for it. She was willing to break off the relationship for me to pursue what made me happy. She said that she had felt that way because of how she had gotten together with me. Apparently, she had to give up on another guy because of me. It was hard for me to believe, but I did, and that only made even more difficult to let go.

I thought about it more and more, and even got to chat with Jackie at the same moment. So there we were, all online at once. I was having a private IM conversation with Adrienne and another private IM conversation with Jackie at the same time.

Adrienne’s window was on the top left portion of my screen while Jackie’s was right below. The more I talked with Jackie, the more I liked her. But, she also told me to stay with Adrienne. Everything was so confusing. The two girls whom I had feelings for and had feelings for me were both telling me that I should stay/get with the other if it was what made me happy.

In Adrienne’s case, she told me to go for Jackie because she knew how I felt. She also reassured me that she would always be there for me no matter what I decided. She said that she would be there if it did not work out.

In Jackie’s case, she told me to stay with Adrienne, as if she was afraid to be the cause for a break-up. I knew I liked her and I felt a connection whenever I was with her. The impression that I had gotten from her was that she just did not want to be the reason that I had broken up with anyone but that she also did like me at the same time.

What a dilemma. I did not know what to do—whom to choose. I kept thinking to myself that I had always thought with my brain before that moment, and I always saw that in movies and on television that it was better to think with your heart for such situations. I had never thought with my heart before—I never needed to, nor did I ever have the chance. This was my first experience with such a heart-wrenching moment.

I never had to choose between two things before that I liked so much. I never had to choose between two girls before. I was never even liked by two girls before. From what I had known, I was never liked by any one girl before (though now I know otherwise). All of this had been so new to me. I had never gone through anything like it before in my life. Nothing was even close.

In the end, however, I made a decision that was to change how everything was going to unfold from then onward. With all that I had felt towards Jackie, it was obvious. She was the girl whom I had feelings for from the start. It was only bad timing that prevented anything from happening in the first place. I thought that she was the one who was meant to be.

So, in resolution, I told Adrienne that maybe it had been better off if we stopped what we had. I could not take what was going on anymore. I felt like I was going to explode and collapse in my seat.

In turn, I asked Jackie a question. I asked her if she would consider getting together with me. It had been obvious that I had such strong feelings towards her, and at the same time, she felt something towards me, even if we never said it explicitly to each other.

Once the split from Adrienne had become finalized, I felt a slight release—a relaxation. But after Jackie’s response to my question, everything tightened up. My chest literally contracted, and it became difficult for me to breathe.

Jackie had responded that she “wasn’t ready for a relationship” at that time. It may not mean much to a girl, but to a guy, those words are some of the most difficult to swallow.

I began choking on my own emotions and quickly resolved that it was probably better that way. If I did not know with whom I should be with, it was probably best if I had been with no one. At least, that was what I told myself to make me feel a little better.

In fact, I had hurt so much that I wanted to cry, except that no tears were coming from the ducts in my eyes. I was incapable of crying at that moment—the moment when I really needed to cry the most.

I cannot recall what happened after that. I know that I went to bed with the pain still in my chest. I also know that for about a week or so afterwards, I had reached a whole new decibel of silence previously unsurpassed.

I just needed to not think about it. It brought back the pain every time I did.

Now, however, I feel nothing. Maybe now I am desensitized to it because I have already thought about it so much. Nevertheless, I still remember, even if now it is no longer as painful as it had used to be.

Thereafter, I cut off communications with both Jackie and Adrienne. Adrienne and I were officially over. Jackie, on the other hand, became too difficult for me to talk to. There became awkwardness on my part to talk to her. I did not want to complicate anything more after that.

Much to my surprise, this had not been the end of my story, no matter how much I had wished it were at the moment. Even though I had immediately adopted the mentality of trying to forget, there were some things that just did not go away.

The Dance

2007-01-09T02:49:00.000-08:00

Here it was, the big day—Saturday, 29 April 2000. The only way I can remember the exact date is through logic. The Freshman-Sophomore Prom had to be on that date because of what happened five days later, which is actually a more prominent memory, somewhat.

Anyway, that day I got ready. It was still mid-afternoon. I had taken a shower and gotten dressed. There was no doubt that I was excited. I put on my long-sleeve dress shirt, black slacks, tie, and a vest—it was the best stuff I had at the time. Then, I grabbed the corsage and boutonnière from the fridge and hopped in the van with my mom. (I wished that I had my license by then, but I had to do with what I had.)

I arrived at Jackie’s house and walked to her front door. I knocked and Jackie answered the door. It was most likely her because no one else was home and her mother was still getting some things ready. If my memory is wrong, it does not really matter.

I said hello, and she gave me a hug in return. Her mother also greeted me and I greeted her in Tagalog, like I always did with friends’ parents. Jackie asked me if I wanted a drink; I declined. Her mother then told her to get me a drink, not knowing that there had already been an exchange about the matter. Jackie obliged to her mother’s request and filled a tall glass with orange soda. It was Jackie’s favorite drink and favorite color. Because of a certain hold-up, Jackie’s mother told me to let my mother go home and that she would take us instead. I did not protest the request—I actually welcomed it.

Jackie asked if I brought a jacket. I did not have one, so with my response, she resolved to get her own. We were probably thinking the same thing: if I did have a jacket or sports coat, I could lend it to her if it started to get cold, like how it happens in the movies. Of course, I could have just been hoping.

Finally, all was set and we were ready to go. I placed the corsage onto her wrist and she placed the boutonniere on my vest. I gulped down the remaining orange soda wishing not to be disrespectful to their offer, and then we headed out to their van (or it may have been an SUV). We headed to her school, just up the street, and finally started our night.

We were dropped off in the parking lot near the gymnasium as the sun was beginning to set. Other people were being dropped off as well. We said goodbye to her mother and headed to the dance. The first order of business was to look for her friends.

Once inside, we met with her friends while other students were still trickling in. I met each friend as I was introduced. I had been the only one in the group that did not attend their school. In total, there were eleven of us in a group: six guys and five girls. The only names I remember are those of Charmane, Lysette, and Daniel. Apparently, Daniel had signed the form in my name that allowed me to attend. There were others, including a couple that were both “related” to Jackie. It was one of those friendly yet familiarly joking relationships—one was her “daughter” while the other was her “brother” of sorts (he was either her “kuya,” older brother, or she was his “ate,” older sister).

We all found ourselves a large enough table to sit all of us, then headed over to take our pictures. We stood in line for only a short period of time then entered the room to take our group picture. It was only $5 per person and everyone contributed, including myself. Jackie having been the tallest of the girls sat in the middle. The rest of the girls sat next to her, two to each side. The guys then stood behind their dates, while I shared the center behind Jackie with the one guy that went stag. The one thing I remember about him was that he had been mistaken for a teacher by one of the parental chaperones.

It only took a few seconds to get us situated before the photograph had been taken. Once the photographer snapped the picture, we were hurriedly led out for the next group to enter. The most interesting thing about that picture is that to this day, I still have not seen it, even though I paid for it. It actually comes to me in a different form later on.

After getting resettled at our table, the rest of the night became a blur—not because I was intoxicated or anything, but because it was fun overall and only a few things really stuck out as being more fun than the other things. Everyone put their stuff down and left the table to head to the dance floor. Jackie offered her purse to me for my cellular phone, and then led me to dance with her. We danced for a few songs, working up a sweat. Our bodies were close together just as they had been during her birthday party, and we just kept on dancing.

We took a break for a drink and some air some time during the night. During that break I remember her going to take a picture with one of her female friends. I thought to myself that maybe I should take an opportunity to take a picture with her as well, but throughout the night, I never got the chance. It was probably better off that way. While she was away, I tried to fill the air the best I can by conversing with her male friends. None of them drove from what I recall, and most of them were fifteen years old, just like me—duh. It was not long before Jackie returned with her friend and found me sitting next to Daniel (I think). She commented, “Are you trying to steal my friends?” or something to that effect.

We left that matter alone as everyone started heading outside. Lysette, or someone, was apparently crying because one of the other girl friends danced with either Daniel or one of the other guy friends. It was commonplace high school drama. Jackie was her best friend so she went out to console her, leaving me inside the gymnasium standing with Charmane. We just stood there for a second, and I thought to myself that Charmane was actually quite cute, but I was not about to do anything because Jackie had told me a small story about their relationship with each other, plus I was here because of Jackie, not her friends. Charmane suggested that we go outside to join the rest of the group, and that we did. She was the only other person that night that I probably talked to. As soon as the incident was over, or seemingly over, everyone returned to the dance.

The guys got together, excluding myself, and suggested to request from the DJ this popular song by Joe called “I Wanna Know.” From what I recall, they requested it, but it never got played. Nevertheless, everyone went back to dancing, and likewise with Jackie and me.

Before the night was over, we danced some more, including to the same song by Limp Bizkit and Method Man that we had danced to during her birthday party. It feels like such a weird song to remember a girl by, but whenever I do hear that song nowadays, she is whom I think of. We danced the night away, to fast songs and slow. Then before I knew it, the night was over. I had lost my boutonniere some time while we were dancing, but all in all, the night was great. It was probably the most fun I had ever had in one night up until that point in my life, and I felt that it brought me even closer to Jackie than anything else ever had, which may not have been such a good thing.

I called home using my mom’s cellular phone for a ride back, and Jackie called home as well for her mother to pick her up. Her friends had suggested that we all go to Denny’s afterwards but it was too late for me, my mother was on her way without any other form of contact. Jackie informed me that she would probably just go home as well, but later I found out that she had gotten coaxed into going to Denny’s with the rest of her friends. Once my mother was in sight, Jackie and I said our goodbyes. Then, she did something that probably just complicated things for me from then on out, though it was a great feeling. She gave me a kiss on the cheek—something she said she had wished to do the first time we saw each other. She leaned in, and immediately I wanted to reciprocate; however, my mother had arrived and it was time for me to go. I did not want to have a scene for my mother to watch that she could remind me of over and over later on. The night was wonderful and I did not want anything that would ruin that before the night finally ended at home.

For something that had been so much fun, it is actually saddening to know that it was the beginning of the end for me.

Encounter Number Three

2006-12-14T23:39:00.000-08:00

It was the beginning of April 2000 and the two of us were still talking on a regular basis. It had been a little while since Jackie had broken up with her boyfriend, and by this time he had all been forgotten. There was no longer mention of him or anything from the past. Neither was there any mention of anything that had ever gone on between Jackie and myself.

Jackie’s high school housed only freshmen and sophomore because it had just been recently opened that school year. Instead of a big prom that usually hosted juniors and seniors, her school opted to host a smaller “Freshmen-Sophomore Prom” that first year. Everyone who was anyone was going, of course, following high school social protocol.

Jackie and her friends decided to all go, but since the advent of Jackie’s recent break-up, she found herself dateless (apparently). So what did she do? She asked me to go with her.

It was during a typical conversation when she had brought it up. She had told me that it was her spring formal. I did not figure it to be such a big deal. I thought she needed a date and I was all she could think of, especially since I felt like I was the only one who talked to her other than her really close friends.

I obliged her request, and just like for her birthday party, I told Adrienne that I was going. Adrienne was okay with it, just like she always was. By this point, Adrienne knew that I had liked Jackie. She knew it was hard for me. She also knew that I still liked her, as well as Jackie. I really thank her for all of her understanding with me. She sent me her best wishes and told me to have fun.

During one of our conversations, Jackie and I spoke about how it was going to work, especially since I did not attend her school. I would have to go over to her house to give her my money for the ticket to the dance, and she and her friends would take care of everything else. All I had to do after that was to show up at her door on the day of the prom.

Not having had been employed at the time, I had to ask my parents for the money. It was not much, just $35 or so. My parents could not tell me no, especially since my older brother had gone to many more expensive high school dances than I had, and my ticket was relatively cheap. I did not have to rent any clothing—tuxedos or suits—and all I needed was for one of them to take me to where I needed to be.

My kind mother provided the money and also provided my transportation to Jackie’s house. To their knowledge, Jackie was probably the closest thing to a girlfriend to me, although I never spoke about any of it in front of them or in front of anybody, actually.

The small trip across town was quick. By side streets, it took about twenty minutes—by freeway would have been longer. It was a Saturday around noon when I arrived at Jackie’s home. I knocked at her door (I rarely ring doorbells so as not to disturb entire households); then someone answered the door. It may have been Jackie’s older sister that did so or it may have been Jackie herself—my memories remain blurred. Whoever it was that answered the door, it did not matter.

I saw Jackie for the third time in my life. We both said hello to each other, I gave her the money, and then we said our goodbyes. It was that quick. I left her front door and walked back to the van. Then, my mom drove home. I do not remember feeling any different after having seen her again. I was not breathing any heavier nor was my heart beating any faster. It was as if I had just visited a normal friend and dropped off a video game or something of that sort. I cannot remember anything else about that day. The memories that I can never forget, however, are those that cover what happened thereafter.

The rest of my story is what I remember the most…

Waiting

2006-12-06T02:56:00.000-08:00

So we talked. What did we talk about? We talked about the things teenagers talked about—stuff. What I remember talking most about with Jackie, though, was her boyfriend.

We were both unavailable then, so it was easier to talk about that type of thing. It was a little more comfortable speaking with each other also since we knew that there could not possibly be anything between us. As for me, I felt a little safer knowing that she had a boyfriend and I could not do anything about it. It meant that I could stop thinking about how I liked her, because no matter what she had someone else already.

It was March of 2000 when we started talking more on the phone. What interested me most about our conversations was that they were mostly about how bad of a boyfriend she had. There was something inside of me that hoped she would end it with him so that maybe I would have a chance again. That was such a stupid thought, however, because I was still with Adrienne. How could I possibly have thought that way? But, the fact of the matter was that I did think that way.

I listened to her every word when she spoke over the telephone. I cherished every moment of it, and, like I always had up to that point, I wished those conversations would never end. (What a good boyfriend I was, huh?)

I just let her talk about anything she wanted, and most of the time it was about her significant other who seemed as if he was never there. I felt like I listened to her more than he ever did. Maybe that was true—only she can say. Like usual, though, our conversations never lasted for long. She would have to go for some reason and I would have to call her back some other time, even though she told me that she would call me back immediately.

Every time I heard her voice talking about how bad of a boyfriend she had, I kept wishing and wishing that they would split. I waited. I knew it was inevitable. From how she spoke, I felt that they would not last. She seemed frustrated. I knew she deserved better than him.

Towards the end of the month, I felt the moment coming ever closer. She was growing more upset by his actions, or more accurately, his in-action. Then, one day, during one of our typical conversations, she told me: they had broken up.

It was about time, I thought.

Then, just as fast as they had broken up, my feelings for her returned. Of course, they had been there all along, rooting for the demise of her supposedly bad relationship. Unlike after her birthday party, however, I controlled myself more. I did not have an immediate urge to break it off with my own girlfriend. That would have been hasty and stupid. And, although I was socially stupid back then, I used a little restraint and let her have her space for a while.

I still talked to her over the phone on a regular basis, still listening with my undivided attention. But, since her break-up, I felt like I wanted to know her even more—be even closer to her. I kept my cool and did not change my demeanor when we spoke, but deep down inside, I was jumping with joy knowing that we were still cool with each other even though she was single again and that maybe I again had a chance.

Unexpected

2006-12-02T03:03:00.000-08:00

My friend Christian and I were walking around the mall one day, some time late February or early March of 2000. It was a one-storey outlet mall, and we were somewhere one the south side when all of a sudden Christian spotted someone looking in our direction.

The reason Christian and I were there was because he was going to meet up with an old classmate. He had gone to another school our freshmen year of high school and had made little to no friends there. Once he moved back to our city, he met this girl online that had gone to his school and apparently was in his class. They had not spoken in person before that, but knew who each other were. That day at the mall, they were just going to say hello, and like a friend, I came along. Later, they would call each other their “destined friend,” or something to that effect, because even though they had class together before, it was not until they met online that they actually started to become friends.

Before it was time for them to meet, however, we made our way around the mall, just to walk and kill time. I remember that I was wearing the same cargo jeans that I had on at Jackie’s party. Those were my favorite pair of jeans until they were stolen from my P.E. locker—I had to find another favorite pair of jeans after that.

Coincidentally, Jackie, Charmane, and Jackie’s little cousin were also walking around the mall in the opposite direction. I was speaking to Christian when he spotted the two girls looking in my direction as if they knew me. For some reason, I turned to look at them, as if something inside me had told me to turn around as we passed each other. At the same moment, Christian pointed out what he saw, and with a slight glance, I confirmed what he had witnessed.

In fact, they had stopped walking twenty feet behind us and had their bodies pointed directly towards me, waiting for me to acknowledge their presence. And, just as I always do with something that takes me a few seconds to recognize, I gave them a squinted look with a slight tilt of the head and a quizzical thought. Then, after I had recognized Jackie and Charmane, I un-squinted my eyes and began walking in their direction.

We met half way and immediately greeted each other, still with a somewhat surprised look on my face. I then introduced my friend Christian to them and began chatting with Jackie.

It had been a while since we last spoke. It was probably when I heard that she had a boyfriend that I last conversed with her. Looking back now, I believe it was through the internet that I found out, because I am sure that she did not tell me with her own voice.

My friend Christian stood aside while we spoke, while Charmane and Jackie’s cousin walked towards one of the stores to give us privacy. We did not speak for long, just like whenever we spoke on the phone. I had nothing to say, so I ended the conversation quickly, although I did not want to end the moment. I saw that my friend was starting to feel a little awkward, so we said our goodbyes and left each other to whatever we had been doing beforehand.

I was not totally surprised to see Jackie at the mall, though. After all, she did work there at the time. In fact, she worked at the AMC movie theater connected to the mall, just outside of Gameworks. Her sister had worked there and she apparently followed. I had known that and actually expected to see her around the mall that day, though not fully aware of it.

A few minutes later, Christian and I made our way to Gameworks to meet his friend Regina. She was accompanied by her older brother, who I knew was Pilipino, but looked as if he was Latino; he had a shaved head and was wearing a baseball jersey. I was somewhat intimidated by him when I first saw him standing with Regina. I found out later that he was actually intimidated by me sitting there at the high table. (I had a way of dressing in high school that made me look as if I was part of some Asian “mafia” gang. In reality, I was far from being in one. I was the exact opposite with a top-ten ranking and honors.)

Feeling somewhat guilty for having cut all communications with Jackie after her birthday party, I started calling her again. We also started talking online again. For one reason or another, it felt as if I could not just forget about her so easily. There seemed to be something that just would not let us let each other go.

Back to Protocol

2006-11-30T23:39:00.000-08:00

Jackie and I definitely had a certain connection, I thought. It was probably true. We started talking with each other even more often than before the party. But, she then gave me some news that affected my way of thinking.

No one had noticed my quietness at school that week following the party. To them, it was probably all the same without any significant change. To me, everything was different. I thought that there was definitely a future if Jackie and I had been together rather than how the situation was at that time.

We were clicking. There was this “thing” between us, even if neither of us admitted to it overtly. She probably thought the same way, but was then kept silent by the fact that I had already been taken. Actually, she probably took the deterrence a little further.

Within only a week or two after her birthday party, Jackie found herself another boyfriend. I do not recall how she gave me the news, but I got it, loud and clear. In a way, it was more of a blessing than a swift kick to my hopes.

Just before I received the word, I was seriously thinking about breaking up with Adrienne, so that I may try something out with Jackie. I was ready to do it, but then Jackie gave me her wonderful news. Like a new car with anti-lock brakes and fresh rubber, everything stopped on a dime.

I felt a little betrayed, of course, but it was her decision. I was not involved. It was not as if she and I really had anything going with each other anyway. So, as quickly as my heart had flown towards her, it had receded back into its former place, putting everything back to normal.

By normal, I mean that I actually stopped talking to Jackie on the phone. I figured that there was no reason to do so anymore. I also cut all contact with her including our internet chats. She had another person she could talk to, which was her newfound boyfriend that seemingly came from nowhere. I also still had Adrienne, who was always there, at least every once in a while, anyway.

What unfolded was actually a great relief. There was no longer any dilemma because in a all actuality, Jackie liked someone else more than she liked me. At least, that was what I told myself. Whether or not it was true, thinking it made everything better. Not having any contact with her also made forgetting her that much easier.

I was back to normal in my outside life as well. I talked at school as much I did before any “dilemma” ever hit me. Nobody had ever noticed that something had happened. Life was good again.

But, like all good things, it had to come to an end.

Intended Goodbye

2006-11-28T19:03:00.000-08:00

The next day, Sunday, 9 January 2000, I called Jackie like usual. I was calling her more frequently by then since we had first spoken on the phone. Still, however, the conversations never lasted for long.

Someone else picked up the line (her sister or mother probably), so I asked, “Puwede pong kausapin si Jackie?” which meant, “Could I please speak with Jackie?” in Tagalog. The person on the other end of the line told me to wait and got Jackie to pick up the phone.

We talked for some time, mostly about what unfolded the day before. I told her that I had a great time at her birthday party. She told me that she too had a good time.

Out of the blue, she then asked me, “So which one of my friends did you think was the cutest?” I do not know why she asked that question of me. Maybe it was to elicit the response that I gave her. I wonder if she actually expected me to say a certain person’s name, and if I did, I wonder how she would have reacted.

Truthfully, I responded by telling her that she was the one whom I thought had the “cutest” look. Of course, the way I meant it did not only pertain to her looks. I remember thinking about her friend Charmane and how she looked that night at the party. I thought she was pretty, yes, but I did not know her enough to say that she was the cutest, per se.

If one were to ask my friend Justin about who he thought was prettiest at the party, he would have said Jackie, also. He was practically asking me on the ride home to hook him up with her. Actually, knowing Justin, he probably did ask me straight out. Once he met her, he automatically had an attraction towards her. Joel probably did, too, but he did not mention anything. Either way, it was agreeable that my response to her question was correct by many standards.

It is probably quite apparent to her that I still liked her. Of course, I was not hiding that fact, especially that night. I never hid that from her, like I wrote before. And, it seemed that she was not hiding much from me either…

She told me that when we were saying our goodbyes the night before, on her driveway, she actually wanted to say goodbye to me a different way. Not with a hug, but with a kiss on the cheek. That may not seem much, but at sixteen and meeting for the first time, that would have been a big deal if it happened. All I could respond with was, “Oh,” and some silence. Being reminded that she liked me back made me like her even more. My heart was weak for that kind of thing. My emotions were sensitive to any slight stimulation.

Adrienne had no knowledge of these things. At times, I am sorry to say, I forgot about her while I was interacting with Jackie. But when I talked with Adrienne, I was immediately brought back to her kind sweetness, her good nature, and her other lovable characteristics.

I called Jackie more often after that, but at the same time, there was finally a visible change in my demeanor that was caused by the situation in which I had put myself. For the rest of the following school week, I remained quieter than I usually was. It was not because I was so happy that I could only think of the two girls that I liked and apparently felt the same way about me in return. It was because I was so confused that I liked two girls who also liked me back.

I was thinking that I had to choose one. I could not go on making connections with two different people at the same time. First, it was unethical and immoral. Second, it was unhealthy. I had to choose to either stay with Adrienne, who I liked very much, or to stop what I had with her and try something out with Jackie. Then, there was a third option of doing nothing, and even a fourth option of ending up with no one.

How could I make that kind of decision? Fortunately, the decision was made for me this time.

Party

2006-11-27T18:39:00.000-08:00

So there we were, standing in front of her house. Her family’s Toyota van was in the driveway along with another SUV. Other cars were parked on the street, making it impossible to find parking nearby. Surely these cars were of her many relatives and friends that attended. The two-car garage door was opened., while the single-car garage was closed. A DJ was spinning some records inside with a few teenagers standing off to the side. The sun was still out when we arrived, so to them, the party has not yet started.

Joel asked me, “Which one’s Jackie?” I looked up and around, but did not see the face that was on the photograph she had sent me online two months before. To my rescue, I had come with two of the most outgoing guys in school who just happened to be my friend (I was actually quite shy, and still am somewhat—it was a surprise that I met her in the first place being the type that I am).

After I responded that I did not know, Joel went up to the first person he saw. It was a person I later came to know as one of Jackie’s best friends, Charmane. When I first met her, the first thought I had was how unorthodox her name was for a Pinay. Joel asked her where Jackie was, even though he did not know either Jackie or Charmane at the time. And at that moment, a figure appeared from behind the door leading into the house from the garage.

Her gaze went straight to Charmane, who was just turning to look for the answer to Joel’s question. Immediately, all of our sights were set on her. That was it. There she was with quite a puzzled look on her face. Her first impression must have been that Joel was myself because he was the one asking the question. My first impression was that this girl was pretty cute in person. She was as tall as me and not as skinny as her friend Charmane, but I did not care.

I introduced my two companions and myself. We hugged for our first meeting. That moment must have been quite odd. I was not the best looking of guys (and still am not), so I do not know what went on in her head. The one thing I remember was that she had told me earlier not to tell anyone that we met online—we supposedly met through a friend—but nobody ever asked about it.

She was wearing a shirt and a skirt, supposedly having changed out of her jeans after her face was planted into her birthday cake earlier in the day. Her body was slim, though not model-slim. The best way I could describe her was average. She was not overwhelmingly beautiful, nor was she even a hint un-pretty. I just remember being a little more attracted to her once we finally met in person.

We spoke here and there throughout the party. She was busy attending to her other guests. It was her sweet sixteen after all. A few of her other friends had shown up by nightfall. They were the typical high school Asian crowd of 2000. The males had faded, spiked hair; the females were short with straight, lightly colored hair. All were wearing casual clothing with a hint of formality, as was I with my dress shirt and blue jeans.

Joel, having been the break-dance specialist from our high school, took over the dance floor most of the night. Justin followed suit with his own moves. They would use Jackie’s little cousin to clear the floor by swinging him around like a helicopter blade. Once the floor was clear, the two would come out with their individual routines. I joined the action with a few moves of my own. In hindsight, maybe I should not have done so—I was hardly the dancing king.

At one point during the night, my friends had noticed that I had yet to dance with Jackie. Joel took her to dance and then dragged me along to follow them. He soon left us alone, just Jackie and I, dancing near the middle of the garage, quite close to each other, just having fun.

The only song I could remember them playing was Limp Bizkit and Method Man’s “N 2 Gether Now.” I remember that song because I found myself dancing to it again with Jackie a few months later. Every time I hear that song these days, it brings me back. It is not exactly the most romantic of songs to remember, but it is a remembrance nonetheless.

After a few hours, Justin called his mom to pick us up. It was time for us to go home—we were outsiders in their world. Once she arrived, Justin and Joel hopped into the Toyota Forerunner. I took a moment with Jackie to say goodbye on her driveway next to one of the cars there. We hugged and parted our ways, but not before I gave her the present I had finally decided on earlier that day. It did not mean much for me when I gave it to her, but it being what it was, it must have seemed like a big deal.

What I gave her was a necklace with a cross on it. It was worth $16, but I had gotten it for free a few months ago because my sister ordered something from a catalog that my school used as a fundraiser. I had also just gotten a newer necklace with a smaller crucifix a month or two beforehand, so the necklace that I gave Jackie was no longer being used by me. Nevertheless, I gave her the necklace without much thought. All I did think of was that maybe she would like it.

I finally got into the Toyota and left the scene with my two friends. For the rest of the night, she was all that I could think of. It must have been the best night of my life at that point. Even for the duration of the following week, I could only think of her. But everything was not exactly that easy. After all, Adrienne and I were still officially together.

So, even though I did just experience the best night of my life, it was actually the harbinger of the toughest times of my existence. The weeks and months that followed were the most difficult for me, emotionally. It was a roller coaster of feelings affected by the slightest of things. I should have know that I was not getting out of my sophomore year in high school unscathed.

Happy Birthday

2006-11-26T06:48:00.000-08:00

Everything that happened thereafter now seems to have been inevitable. With Jackie and I conversing on a somewhat regular basis, we were bound to meet each other in person sooner or later. It was sooner than I thought and later than I hoped. Equally true: Adrienne was bound to find out about Jackie.

It was winter break—late December 1999—just before Y2K was supposed to crash the world’s computers. I had met more people online by that time, including two girls who are the only remaining names from my old AOL days that are still on my buddy list, one of which is like a little sister, and the other who could have complicated my situation even further (but she already had a boyfriend at the time, and there is something about unavailable women that make me like them less). Jackie’s birthday was coming up the next month, and for some reason, she invited me.

Now, I do not know what it was that made her have that certain affinity towards me in the past. Maybe it was because she had just broken up with an abusive boyfriend (who happened to share my name) and I was someone that was being nice to her. Maybe it was because she had to transfer to the newly built school in her area, having to leave some friends behind in her former high school, which then clouded her thoughts. Whatever it was, she still invited me to her birthday party and told me that I could bring a friend for company.

The party was slated to be on the eighth of January—a Saturday. Her real birthday was on the eleventh, which fell on a Tuesday, so she decided to have the party earlier on the weekend. I do not know how I still remember that, but I do.

Of course, I said yes to her invitation. How could I not? I obviously still had my own affinity towards her, and I was not about to pass up an opportunity to meet her in person. Out of courtesy, I talked it over with Adrienne before I actually went. I had seen many television shows and movies before to know that hiding things from a significant other will only make things worse. Apparently, however, I had not seen enough to know that I should not have hidden the fact that I still liked Jackie at the time.

So that was how Adrienne first heard of Jackie. I am not quite sure if I mentioned that we met online, but it did not matter. Adrienne was okay with me going. She was really an understanding person, even more so than I thought anyone could be.

The clock struck midnight on New Years Eve, and nothing happened to our computer. Nothing happened to anyone’s computer. It was all just a scare. All that was left was the trash from the celebration the night before. Then a week passed, and it turned into the eighth of the month.

I had asked my closest friend at the time, Justin, if he wanted to go with me to the party. Of course, he obliged after hearing the word “party.” Our friend Joel came with us, too. My neighbor was also supposed to go with us, but after dropping by home from the mall (where I was looking for a gift), his parents made him stay.

My mother (how embarrassing, huh) then drove the three of us to Jackie’s house. We stopped at the corner, upon request from Justin, so that we could walk to her house instead of them seeing us dropped off. She then told me to be careful and blah, blah, blah—the usual motherly things—then left for home, leaving us there, with nothing else to do but go to that party.

Telephone

2006-11-23T16:38:00.001-08:00

Surprisingly, we stayed friends—Jackie and I. I did not expect anything out of it, of course. We knew our limits by then. But, like all girls that I have liked before, I never really quite stopped liking her. Something inside of me just told me to tone it down a bit.

One way or another, she gave me her home phone number (mobile phones were not so commonplace yet). She must have asked me to call her because I was not so good with telephone conversations, so I had no reason to do so voluntarily.

I obliged and called her. It was late November 1999, maybe early December, by that time. I was not too worried with school—I had been doing quite well for years. All I was worried about was what to say to her every time we spoke. It was not frequent when I called her. It was sporadic at most. I tried to speak to her in a natural tone, but of course there was still that feeling towards her that I could not fully hide from her or myself.

One thing was certain, though: every time we spoke on the phone, something was bound to come up that would make us have to stop speaking with each other. Whether she had to go do something or her older sister needed the phone, it did not matter. We could never have a truly full conversation over the line. I began to suspect that she was doing it on purpose. Maybe she was just being nice. But she kept taking my calls and still corresponded with me online. Either way, I did not let it get to me. I was probably blinded. Plus, it was not as if I was going to date her; I was already taken.

At this point, nobody knew what was going on in my life. None of my family or friends knew about Adrienne or Jackie. They did not suspect a thing. My studies were unaffected, and the same went for my social life—whatever there was that I could have called a “social life.”

Everything that was happening outside of my normal lifestyle was completely hidden from the rest of the world. It was not such a conscious effort. That was just how I handled things.

It took a long time before I could actually share my secret life with other people, and by then, it was because I was going crazy.

Misunderstood

2006-11-16T19:04:00.001-08:00

Looking back now, the “Ninja” seems like such a fitting nickname for her. She was quite the sneaky one, always working covertly. I never really knew what she was thinking. At the same time, she never really told me what she was thinking. And, for all of the time that I have known her, I was never really sure what went on in her head.

Her name was Jacqueline—Jackie for short. We spoke again with each other. I do not know when it was, but it must have been in the middle of November 1999. I also do not remember what we talked about but it must have led to a conversation about me having a girlfriend. I am not sure if she had asked me or if I offered the information freely. Either way, she ended up knowing. I only know this because of what happened next.

Towards the end of the month, I signed onto AOL as usual, but this time the man’s voice said, “Welcome. You’ve got mail!” I looked in my inbox and found an email from Jackie. Again, my blurry memory will not let me recall the details of the email, but the gist stayed with me.

It apparently had been a reaction to finding out that I now had a girlfriend at the time. She then informed me that her wanting to have kept me “company” earlier on did not mean just for the moment. It had the tone that she was a little regretful for not having snatched me first. How flattering, right? With my fading memory, I cannot even say for sure now that it was an email—maybe it was an actual IM conversation. Either way, the effect was the same.

It made me realize how much I liked her from the start. It also made me start to second-guess my relationship with Adrienne, but ultimately, all I could do was feel flattered, and then feel bad for the both of us because I was committed to making my new relationship last. I could not imagine myself breaking Adrienne’s heart and becoming the cause for a break-up at any time.

There was nothing else to do. I had to shrug it off that some other girl that I liked also liked me back. I did not know that back when we first met. I could not say, however, that it did not make me think. I still liked Jackie, and I never, at any point, hid that fact from her.

Maybe everything was happening a bit too fast. I did consider that. But, there was no turning back. I took the path and it was a one-way road—it seemed as if it was, anyway.

It was not, of course.

Little did I know back then that that one email would start the snowball rolling. Everything that happened thereafter only made it harder for me to forget Jackie’s intentions. And Adrienne’s niceness did not alleviate the situation either—it only made it more difficult for me.

In hindsight, however, maybe none of it would have been so difficult if I had only noticed one important fact that is still true to this day: Jackie never actually told me that she liked me.

Colorado

2006-11-10T20:49:00.000-08:00

This story may seem as normal as any other, but what should be noted is that Adrienne and the Ninja are two different people. So, no matter how happy the beginning of this story seemed to be, it had already developed a twist from the start.

Adrienne was from Colorado, somewhere in or around Denver. She was my age, Vietnamese, and Buddhist. Months after we met, she told me that we actually had more in common than I had initially thought. I understand now how that was possible.

It did not matter to me back then that we did not know what each other looked like. That added to the sweetness of the relationship. It also did not matter that our relationship was long-distance. In a global perspective, we were not that far from each other. A state or two, and maybe the Rocky Mountains separated us, but to the minds of two young, naïve high school sophomores, that distance was close to nothing.

We actually rarely conversed with each other after that—maybe once every two weeks or even three times in a month on average. It was not much of a big deal that it turned out that way. What mattered to us was that we liked each other and were happy whenever we did have a conversation.

One day, she actually gave me a surprise. While talking to each other online, she asked me for my phone number. I obliged and gave it to her. Then, without hesitation, my phone rang. There were two phone lines at my house, and my dial-up connection to AOL was jacked into the secondary line, so when she called me, I was able to stay connected to the internet.

Anyway, I picked up the phone, and on the other end of the line was Adrienne. She had a cute, somewhat high-pitched voice that other Asian girls had at that age. We spoke for a minute or two, but I had to go—it was dinnertime. That was the only time we ever heard each other’s voices.

After we had gotten together, I forgot about all the other girls that I had ever liked up until then. I even forgot about the Ninja for a while, until, of course, we spoke to each other again a week or so later.

Girlfriend

2006-11-06T22:17:00.000-08:00

Saturday, 6 November 1999. It was a date that I could not forget, and apparently still. Of course I would normally not have been allowed to forget it, but she was nice enough to probably have let me.

It was another Saturday night spent in front of the family Packard Bell computer. I was only fifteen at the time and had yet to get my driver’s license, so I had nowhere to go, nor did I have people to see. It was after dinner and it was time to hear the man’s voice again say “Welcome.”

I cannot remember where. I do not even remember how. It just happened. It was as if the actual meeting was not important. All that mattered was the goodbye.

We found each other in a chat room, probably, and ended up conversing through the Instant Messenger service privately for some reason. That kind of thing was normal. I did not care about the how or why—at least, not back then.

Her name was Adrienne, by the way. She was the sweetest girl I could have ever imagined. From the words that she used, I could tell that she was quite a nice person, with a unique way of thinking. At first glance, we may have seemed incompatible, and maybe we were. By the end of the night, however, none of that mattered.

The details of the actual conversation faded away from my memory long ago, but what I do remember was how we parted ways. It was nearing the end of the night, maybe some time after ten o’clock. It was time for her to go to bed, and the same went for me. Again, the next day was Sunday, of course, and there were obligations to be fulfilled. What I recall the most was not what was said, but how long it took to say. What I mean is that after thirty minutes, we were still chatting away, saying our goodbyes. Then it took another thirty minutes to actually sign off. So, from the time we decided to leave each other in peace to the time we actually left, an hour had passed. That was some goodbye.

In the end, after a few complimentary comments to each other (that may be an understatement), she then asked me, “So does this mean now that I’m your girl and you’re my man?” I cannot remember the exact wording, but the effect was the same.

Corny as it may seem, the only words that I could muster from my brain were, “Well, if that’s the way the cookie crumbles.” Then, in an instant, that was that. We were together.

Our feelings and emotions became tangled with each other, and it seemed to swallow us both. Before I knew it, I had jumped into something. That something: I do not know exactly what it was—a relationship, perhaps—but I jumped into it all the same.

“Goodbye,” said the man’s voice. I shut down the computer and went to bed, no longer a single man.

The Ninja

2006-10-30T18:11:00.000-08:00

It was late October of 1999. I was a sophomore in high school then. Earlier that summer, I had uninstalled a video game program from our family computer, which caused it to crash and cease to start up. After a fix, my mother finally decided to sign up for internet service through, what else, America Online (AOL). Back then it was supposedly “so easy to use” that it was “no wonder it’s number one.” Anyway, the internet soon became an addiction for me, having been only fifteen with the world at my fingertips.

After just a few weeks, I already had a routine. I would log on, wait for the voice to say “Welcome,” and immediately look for any Filipino-based chat rooms under the Japan directory. (As you may have guessed now, I am Filipino.) From what I hear nowadays, the Filipino-based chats are now housed under the Argentina directory.

Just one day before Halloween that year, I logged onto a chat just like I had always done. With my homework finished and dinner in my stomach, I was ready to socialize with perfect strangers from all over the United States. Also like always, once I entered the chat room, I would introduce myself with a few left-angled brackets followed by my “a/s/l,” or age, “sex,” and location.

<<<15/m/ca

Then out of habit, I would then ask the other members of the chat to do the same.

ASL?

They would respond accordingly and resume their chatter. Questions would be asked, users would answer, and occasionally, certain people would strike private chats on their own through the Instant Messenger service built into AOL.

It was my lucky night because some one wanted to strike a private conversation with me. I still remember her screen name back then. It resonated with something distinctly Filipino, and it was even formatted with alternating upper case and lower case letters. From what I recall, her initial greeting was, “Can I keep you company?” At least it was something of that sort. What I did not know was that this phrase would come back later with a different context.

We soon got into a typical conversation, and once we had found out that we lived just minutes from each other, on opposing borders of the same city, our conversation got even more personal. The next step was to share pictures. I did not have a digital camera back then, but who really did? Nor did I have many pictures of myself in great abundance. I had stopped taking pictures of myself (more like stopped letting people take pictures of me) for quite some time since I arrived in the United States—I never liked how I looked in those pictures that were taken.

I explained to her my situation with not having a picture readily available, then shyly asked if she had one of herself. I asked shyly because I did not want to seem so shallow, and at the same time, I did not want to ask for anything from anyone that I could not provide myself. She obliged the request, however, and soon transferred her picture. It was a typical studio-shot picture of herself and two of her cousins. She asked if I could guess who she was. Although the three girls in the picture had a resemblance, it was quite easy for me to guess. She had a distinct face, different from her two cousins.

As was my nature back then, I complimented her on how pretty she looked. I figured that I had nothing to lose on the internet, especially since I am essentially an unknown just like everyone else. Social encounters on the internet did not carry the burden of keeping appearances like they do in “real life.”

We talked for a little while longer and soon reached the topic of trick-or-treating for Halloween. She asked me if I was going to dress up as anything. I replied that I was not. Then I shot the question back at her. She replied that she was going to go as a ninja, then head out at night with her friends from school. I thought to myself, “that’s nice.”

Soon she had to go. It was a little late for young people like us and there were things to do the next day, like church in the morning. We parted ways, but not before adding each other to our “buddy lists.” I resolved to make contact with her again one day because it seemed as if we had a real connection. Maybe I was just a little hopeful then, but I think that has stayed the same until now, also. I logged out of AOL and waited for the recorded voice to say, “Goodbye.”

I once again was feeling quite happy. Of all the people that I had met online within that first couple of months, she was the first to be within reach—the closest one so far. Who knew, maybe there were only two or three degrees of separation between us instead of the theoretical six. However many degrees of separation there were outside of the internet, all I knew was that by the end of the night, those degrees of separation had dwindled down to only one.

Introduction

2006-10-29T20:15:00.000-08:00

Almost exactly seven years ago, something happened in my life that changed it forever. It was not as if I almost died or won the lottery. It was much simpler than that. I made an acquaintance.

It still amazes me how much I think of this person on a regular basis. I am almost embarrassed that I still do, especially since it has been years since we last spoke or had any form of contact, even indirectly.

One of the only reasons why I am writing this is because I wish to finally forget. I have been trying to forget for years now, but something always reminds me of that person, or in certain cases, some one. On the other hand, maybe it is because I never want to forget. Either way, the memories are still with me and I think I should tell some one about it.

It may be better if I just retold the story the way I lived it, one memory at a time. I think this may be the first time that I am retelling the story in such detail. No one I know has ever heard it in such a way, not even my family or my closest friends. In the process, maybe I can learn something more about myself, from the things that went right to the things that went wrong.

Everything hereafter is true for as much as I can remember. The names of the people and places involved have not been altered. Only the surnames have been left out to allow for at least some form of privacy.