I fell in love with you.
There, I said it. I never admitted it to myself. My friends knew I was in love with you, but I didn’t. “I just really, really, like him. A lot. But it’s not love. God, no. No. It isn’t.”
I was too proud or too scared to even acknowledge the very thought of it. I fell in love with you but you didn’t love me back. I knew it.
I knew it even before I told the universe that I kind of liked you. I already imagined a million scenarios of you telling me that you didn’t like me. “Look, I like you too. But as a friend. Only as a friend.” or maybe “What the fuck? Where did this come from?”
Being in love with you means getting my heart broken. I was mourning a lost love for quite some time and my stupid heart goes falling for the next person who’d just break it again.
I’ve always been stupid in love. Then again, who isn’t? You said it yourself, “Mahirap magpaka-talino sa pag-ibig.”