What if I never loved again? What if this was it? What if he was what I was waiting for all along and I blew it? I blew it.
I’d always been right for most things I’ve decided in my life. I’ve always known how to discern what was for me and what wasn’t. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I had a plan. Get a scholarship. Pass all subjects. Graduate with honors. Get a highest-paying job. I wasn’t supposed to meet someone like him. I wasn’t supposed to feel anything. Life doesn’t always give us the easy path.
This was it. I told myself. This is how I will remember him. This is how I will remember us. This is how we will end.
I stood outside the elevator knowing that if we went inside it would mean that I was ready to say goodbye. So for the first time in my life I was weak. For the first time, I cried. Not because of who we were, but because of who we were never going to be.
With trembling hands, I pushed the button that would lead us both down the building. It was my last time to do all this. It was my last day in this floor, in this building and in this country. Knowing I would probably never have this experience again, I savored every second of waiting for the elevator to reach our floor.
I said goodbye to everyone. Hugging them and hoping that I would be able to see them again someday. If I wasn’t weak, it should have ended there casually. I should have said goodbye to him without turning back, but I couldn’t. I wanted one last memory with him.
Like a stupid lovesick girl, I asked him to come with me so we could say a proper goodbye. We quietly stayed on opposite sides of the elevator, neither one knowing what to say to each other.
I wanted to tell him that he was special to me. I wanted to tell him that I prayed for someone like him for so long. I wanted to tell him that he was everything I’ve always wanted. I wanted to tell him that he was the only one who understood me in this place that was so foreign to me. I wanted to tell him that I felt something for him. I wasn’t sure if it was love. I’d never been in love before. I knew that what I felt for him the times that we were together was probably pretty close to that.
So I sat across him in the couch, trying to gain the courage to say what I’ve been wanting to say. Yet looking at his face I knew. I knew. There wasn’t a reason to. I never had the chance.
I did what any idiot in love would do. I stalled for as long as I could.
I talked about random things. I talked about how I would miss them all. I talked about how good of a friend he was to me. I talked about how I wanted to go back one day. I recalled our times together. How weird it was that he was the only one who laughed at my weird jokes. How I would ask him to eat whatever was on my plate. How he was the only one to get me to drink beer in one of our night out. How we shared that amazing day together.
I asked him about what he wanted for the future. I asked him about what would happen when he graduated. I asked him about his family and his hometown. I asked him about anything and everything personal, when all I wanted to ask was if we could be more than what we were.
I knew he didn’t think of me the way I thought of him. He was much too nice to tell me that though. So he patiently told me I would be okay. He told me that if it was meant to be, we would see each other again one day.
I pretended to laugh it off. So I jokingly made him promise, "When I’m rich and famous, and you get one of those science awards, we’re going to meet again."
He laughed and said, "I’m going to do my best."
I gave him one last hug. I wanted him to hold me like we were more than just friends, but it wasn’t like that. It was never like that. I told him another weird joke before I spotted the bus and swiftly ran towards it.
I waved goodbye, choking back tears, knowing that this would probably be the last time I would see my soulmate and he didn’t even know it.
The next day, I boarded the plane back home. I kept our memories together. The first time we talked. The first time he shared a piece of cake with me. The first time we went out till late at night and I woke up knowing that I now thought of him as more than a friend.
It’s been months since I last saw him, but I’m going to keep that promise. For now, I’ll be content with what I have. Memories of him.