To Alberto


We met at the Wrong Time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot

A letter to Alberto

Since you came in without even knocking at my door, I never imagined writing you a letter. Though I did write something about you, it wasn’t even that long or expressive, it was more controlled and indirect to the point, maybe a bit denial and scared.

Life really is a playful thing. After a year, here I am now writing you this at 2 am in the morning because I couldn’t sleep and I couldn’t stop thinking about the last summer … of you and me.

I shouldn’t be writing this. This is so wrong. I feel like I’m betraying you for allowing myself to admit these things and writing all about it makes it even more real. I told myself whatever this is I’m feeling I’d just lock this in a drawer. I thought I threw away the key but I just woke up one morning with the key in my hand and without realizing what I’m doing I’ve already unlocked it. I really don’t know what I should tell you, since it’s too late. You have her now.

I don’t know what made me think and feel this way again but each time I close my eyes now, I see you and I feel caterpillars in a hurry to have their wings, and butterflies going crazy as if taylor swift’s gonna join their secret tea party and I see when it all started.

It was almost the end of the semester and we were doing a group project that forced us to sleepover at our classmate’s house. I still remember those short conversations we had before we jumped into Charles’ car to Dee’s place, I bet you forgot all about it just like how you forgot the other little things but it doesn’t matter, it would always stay with me. I remember our first dance together and the exact words you asked me that midnight and how awkward it was [haha]. I remember falling asleep in the couch and waking up at 3 am with my eyes still half close and we watched the unfinish edited video project together. I went back to sleep after that, and when I woke up again I went down to Dee’s room to sleep in a real bed, and guess what? I found you there silently browsing through the computer. You asked me what I was doing there then I told you I wanna sleep and you said “again?” with a smile playing on your lips, you said to me to sleep tight, that you’ll just play music on the computer. And I did sleep without a sign of a heavy heart. I hate myself for noticing without caring, and letting those unspoken messages in your eyes slip away.

I remember it all too well and I remember not seeing you that time. It breaks my heart a million times when I see now what I wasted, what I was too blind to see and what a big coward I am, but on the other side you really can’t put all the blame on me, can you? We both know that that time was a really rough one for me, and every wounds need time to heal. Time…such a backstabbing illusion that we can never grasp, with rules we can never understand.

Time taught me that you weren’t the right choice before. Now, time opened my eyes. I see who I am when I’m with you, and sometimes just talking to you virtually not even seeing you for a long long time is when I find myself, that one missing piece of me. I love it when I act like a brat and you never [not even once] showed impatience to me, I love how I can share to you my twisted ideas with my twisted mind, you never judge me. I love how secure I feel with you, not being afraid of losing you with whatever I do or say, or wherever place I go to, whatever I wear, which people I’m with. You never based who I am from what kind of tv series I watch, the kind of accessories I wear. I love how you’re so mean to me, and allowing me to be mean to you too. I love it when I scare you, and you scare me in a different way. I love that unexplainable feeling I get when you start talking, like I always have to ready myself because I know you’ll be bombing me with all your crazy ideas and mean jokes. I love how you never interrupted my drama moments, the times you just listen and never complained about my usual drama. I love it when you bought me an ice cream because I was so down about my grades and you were there, never leaving my side the whole time, it was one of the sweetest thing anyone ever did for me you know. Maybe it was just any ice cream and just one of the many low grades I received but it’s special, because it’s You. I like it when you help me solve my girly problems. I love it when you tell me I’m Odd [seriously who uses that word to a girl?]. I love how you’re also scared with scary movies [haha] and how you never miss a conversation without making me have a good laugh. I love it when just thinking about you, you effortlessly paint a smile on my face.

It sounds really weird confessing about it huh? I’m sorry. I don’t really know what I’m sorry about. Maybe I’m sorry because this thing I feel is such a betrayal because we consider each other close friends or maybe even best friends. Maybe I’m sorry because until now I still feel guilty about what I did to you, maybe I’m guilty because really part of me wanted you more than I allowed myself to admit. Maybe I’m sorry for being a coward. Maybe I’m sorry for myself because by the time I had the courage to admit my feelings, that’s when I lost you. Lost, ha ha as if you were ever been mine. But we shared something special right? Please tell me I wasn’t assuming anything. Please tell me we had something just the two of us could really understand.

I’ve always told other people that we’re just friends, and nothing happened before, and if there was something, we both buried it a long time. Just now that I’m writing you this, I wonder when this all came back, but the ugly truth is… It never went anywhere. My feelings for you, it has always been here, hidden deeply, safely within me. I’m just good at trying to make myself believe that there’s nothing going on, sometimes I would slipped and get lost in your eyes. It happens, and I can also feel that you feel it too. I know you do, I see it in your eyes, I’m so sorry for saying this, but that’s what I think I see. I see longing too and I see a flicker of light but we would both blow that light off and pretend we saw nothing in each other’s eyes, even Zeratzel saw it too one time, and we both jumped from the sound of her voice, guilt written all over in both our faces as if the universe saw us cheating.

Remember that time I was with El and when we went to your apartment you weren’t there, so we left. Then moments later, you saw us, but just 6 meters away from me I jumped into a cab leaving you behind. Oh and there’s that time when I was about to meet Christopher in a cafΓ©, but decided to just stay in school until 5pm, and I never knew you were with Christopher until I went to see him just minutes before you left. I’m starting to believe that time is playing us, we never met halfway. You always arrive just in time I leave, and I would always turn around by the time you decided to turn your back. Wrong Time, as what most people would say. I don’t really know what’s the point of writing this, maybe I just needed to pour all these emotions all at once and get over it? Maybe, just maybe in another life we’ll meet each other again, at the right place, at the right time, at the right moment of our lives. Or . . .

maybe, we’re never meant to be more than what we are now.


Wrong Time


We met at the Wrong Time. That’s what I keep telling myself anyway. Maybe one day years from now, we’ll meet in a coffee shop in a far away city somewhere and we could give it another shot

A letter to Alberto Continue reading