The First

I still remember every little thing about our first meeting. (Although I'm pretty sure it's technically not our first time seeing each other, considering we might have ran into one another in the park or cafetaria like we did many times later. But it's the first time my subsconscious acknowledged your existence and we first introduced ourselves, so yeah, I think that counts enough.) I remember the place, the time, the clothes you're wearing and mine, the ambience, and I swear I can somehow still recognize the smell: a little tangy and sweet of wet leaves. I remember your eyes seemed to reflect the street lights; bright and sunny as was your smile.

Maybe I have been liking you since then.

(I didn't know, of course, not until years later, and I still don't know if that was stupid of me, or it was just right.)

I also remember our first fight. I don't remember what and who started it, but it's still fresh in my mind that I was so confused and scared because we didn't talk and see each other for a whole week. I realized the fight upset me more than the reason why we even started the fight, so I apologized. It wasn't easy because my pride was everything and you did mock me for giving in first, but we're suddenly fine again and that's the most important thing.

Our first time introducing our significant others was awkward. I was the one who suggested a double date, because it sounded so much like a good idea back in my mind but I regretted it as soon as I said it out loud. To think about it, it's partly your fault for agreeing and not realizing how stupid it was. But maybe it was necessary. Thanks to the disastrous double date, I had came to a realization that I was much more comfortable with you than with my own man. I was wondering why, but I didn't want to know the answer just yet.

When the answer did come, it was like a sudden wave, and I was terrified. Of you, mostly, because there was a very good chance you would hate me once you found out. (You wouldn't, because the answer had already came to you too, but earlier, and I was the one who was dumb for longer.) 

You didn't find out. Still don't. Wouldn't even do.

I still remember our last meeting. The place, the time, the clothes you're wearing and mine, the ambience. It smelled like coffee shop and pattiserie and again, you were wearing that sunshine of a smile and I was too blinded to second guess anything. You said you'd come back tomorrow. I never thought that after everything, you would lie.

(But I have read the letter you left me. If only you sent it sooner. We might have been truly happy for once.)