I never thought it could happen to me. I was young and I thought the worst that could take place would be a cut on the knee or a slap on the arm from my parents. I was wrong.

     It happened unexpectedly–inexplicably. And it became the worst experience that I had. My most painful experience.

     It happened on the second week of classes when I was in Second Year. At the time, I had and I was bringing with me fresh memories of my first year in high school. Memories of a boy who once sent me a letter. Written on it were the words so shocking, but also the loveliest. Words that I truly believed. When I remembered the letter, I kept smiling to my self. I really expected that the boy who gave me that would somehow keep it. That the boy would remember himself writing a letter to a girl, in his curved handwriting, bearing the words: “I LOVE YOU”

     And again, I tell you: I was wrong.

     For two weeks I kept looking for the boy. Looking for some signs of him fulfilling his promises. An expectant look you would see when you see me looking at him, every time I see him at the corridors. For two weeks I waited, but he kept avoiding me. He kept averting his eyes whenever he saw me looking at him. He was, at the most, fading away.

     On the last day, I finally hadn’t taken it any longer. I sent him a message asking him what he was really up to. I asked, in an indirect way, if he still remembered the letter. The words. The promises. Was he still waiting? I sighed heavily on my chair after a while. All I ever thought of all summer was him, and what it would be like walking with him after classes and talking to him about the best things in the world.

     I thought of us.

     An hour later, I received his reply…and it broke my world to pieces. In an instant, tears welled up my eyes. All the pain of waiting and all the sacrifices and the memory of my funny expectant face bursted inside me. Then, all of a sudden, all I felt was anger. I was mad!

     Of course, what had I expected? Why had I even thought that there was something called “us”? Why had I thought that he would still be waiting? And worst of all, why had I let myself fall for him? For his promises? For his lovely, full-of-crap words? Why? Why was I so foolish?

     He FOOLED me…deceived me.

     What did he say? Those were just the “greatest” words I ever read and knew about! The “best”!

     “I’M SORRY. BUT I ALREADY FOUND HER.”

     Oh, damn. Those were the most painful words ever. 

     I don’t mind anyone telling me that I was ugly; that I was chubby, or short. I don’t mind those because the only thing that mattered was the person I loved. You.

     But now, the only thing that mattered was taken away from me. And I’m alone–AGAIN.

     It hurt before–at the very time it happened–but now, two years have passed and I learned to move on. There was no use staying on the same place forever. I must keep moving forward.

     I must be happy.

     I also realized that before, I thought I couldn’t live without the things I wanted, and now, I’ve learned to be happy and be contented with what I have.