it feels much like that time in 2nd year high, when i had found a rather anonymous greeting card waiting for me on my desk. i lapsed from staring at it incredulously to eyeing everyone in the room suspiciously. the card had this flowery design on front, if i can remember correctly, was sealed with scotch tape on all sides, and featured only my name on it, handwritten.
i was seeing through paranoia-filmed eyes, thinking, no doubt, someone's pulling a prank on me
. i was imagining everybody looking at me in varying degrees of mirth, from half-silent sniggers to full-blown guffaws. at the same time, my mind was spinning with trying to work out whose idea this was, along with a feasible course of action to minimize embarrassment and lash back in subtlety. add to that the downright frightening possibility that it came from our nose-picking, homo
but nothing confounded my thoughts more than thinking, what if this wasn't a prank at all?
god knows i had a lot of crushes in our class. worse, i was a stupid, romantic, but clueless, dolt. i was swimming in glee in wondering which pretty girl was about to bare open her heart for me, and let me bask in her absolute worship for my utterly charismatic person. yep, ego trips, wishful thinking, plus megalomaniacal daydreaming, all in one.
those thoughts i hated the most. there was nothing that can pull my depression lever harder and faster than foolishly raising my hopes up. argh
. i hated each and every moment i had of failing my own expectations and hopefulness. it's like scratching a festering eczema infection with steel wool laced in alcohol and burning oil.
so you can probably imagine my mood today. while still dizzy from motion sickness on a bus ride home, i received this sms from an anonymous person who knew me by name, claiming to be my classmate, and candidly mentioning she had a crush on me. of course, involuntarily my mind was frantic, picking one name from a long (a necessary exaggeration)
list of possibilities and weighing them one by one.
as i had innumerable crushes still, i could hardly stop myself from playing out individual scenarios in my mind: me, asking her who she was, her, answering and confessing in one breath, then we make an impromptu meeting, and end the day as lovers. that went on for the remainder of my one-hour trip, with a different girl each time, and with more elaborate dialogues and romantic interludes.
of course, i just assumed that it was a she
. and that i find her appealing
(not just attractive, mind). i had to keep fighting my daydreaming, in case i was being the butt of another goodtiming joke.
i still haven't found out her name yet. she still hasn't replied. hopefully, it is at least a she. or better, that when i wake up tomorrow, i've completely forgotten the incident.
i loathe the seductive promise of false hope.