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TO THE BOY I HAVEN’T MET YET
Whatever you are doing right now, know that you crossed my mind. Recently, you’re all I think about and somehow, in this weird state I’m in, I get to know you more and more. Is it my desperation or my eagerness? I don’t know anymore.

Anyway, enough about drama. I did not intend to write this letter to address my sadness. I don’t want to sound lonely when maybe right at this moment, you’re with someone. You’ve probably closed your mind about thinking there’ll never be another girl you’ll ever love after this one, because I know I wouldn’t too.

It often eludes me that I won’t have the honor to be your first. Your first kiss, your first love, your first everything. And that just proves that there is more to life than the primordial firsts. Know that I understand, know that you should too because we are not perfect but we’ll be for each other if we choose to accept it.

I am excited though, of that ‘zing’ moment my grandmother always told me about. “That’s how you’ll both know.” She often ends it with a smile and I believed her. I believe however dull the moment will take, we’ll both feel that electric current of proof that Cupid really did aim that arrow for the both of us. When that time comes, we’ll know.

When that time comes, I’ll be ready. I’ll stay true to my word when I promise you that I won’t be like the others; with their drama and compromises. You’ll come as a gift, and I’ll treat you right because you would reciprocate the same. This won’t be unrequited, our future love story will be the history our granddaughters will soon swoon over. And I won’t get tired retelling the story, as long as you’ll end it with me.

This is not a shout to the void because it will happen. Tragedies and unseen foes will come and go and I am worried about how we’ll go over it. That is why I am writing this to you now so you will know. Gosh no, I don’t need a fancy knight on a white steed. I’m not even sure if they still exist. I just need you, and your unconditional protection that comes with your unconditional love and I’m good with that.

Blow off the grand gestures and side-long glances, when you catch my attention, I’ll know.

When will it happen? The waiting wears me out sometimes. Seeing other girls and boys my age holding hands make the yearning seem farther and farther from my grasp. Sometimes I get tired of the waiting because I am afraid it will never come. That all the 11:11 wishes and eye lashes will be futile. But then again, by the end of the day, when I lay in my bed, I am still consumed of the curiosity of how it will feel like when one morning I will wake up beside you. And that gives me so much hope I hope again.