Unspoken Words

I've been meaning to write this for months but I could not seem to gather the nerve. I could not even find the words to say what I really want to say. I am overwhelmed by the intensity of emotions. I am silent yet bursting with joy. It is not in my nature to be eloquent in my feelings and yet once I held my pen, I could not seem to stop writing and writing and writing.

It's been years since I have last held this emotion at the palm of my hand and yet here it is, right in front of me, waiting to be acknowledged yet knowing it could never be. It was sudden. Unexpected. Exhilarating.

For months I have endured these conflicting emotions--extreme happiness on one end and crushing disappointment on the other. A part of me knows I should let go but another part just wont. It's like a pendulum of indecision that could not stop from moving from one side to another.

I have rejoiced in the knowledge that when I pass by, a pair of eyes would follow in my direction and how I wish I could turn and look at him the way he looked at me. But like all the other tragic stories, ours could never have a happy ending.

An ocean of conflict stands between us--my inability to express what I really feel, his painful shyness, his social status, my cynical take on the world, his first taste of the future that awaits him, my driving ambition and his lack of it.

His actions told me what words could not and he had a good reason for not for not voicing them, the same way that I had no choice but to keep silent about it.

I've gotten used to our guessing games--of wondering whether we would see each other accidentally or whether we would finally allow our eyes to meet and maybe share a secret smile. How pathetic! At my age, I should not even be playing these games anymore but still it gives me a small measure of satisfaction...Oh, darn!

I miss these seemingly insignificant things but I could not avoid being proud of myself. Imagine the self-control I have to do. Suppressing the kilig factor that crept unobtrusively
at first then increasing its magnitude in time. This is a bewitching torture. It unnerved me, shamed me...fascinated me.

It's nothing sinful, really. No quoting of Bible passages for me. No prayers for the salvation of my soul. But there IS regret--regret that at this stage in my life, I have succumbed to this unlikely feeling. That it would remind me of my youth and the fleeting passage of time. Why get used to someone who is clearly unsuitable?

No words passed between us, there was really no need, for his stare, so simple and shy, but so deep and eloquent in meaning brought memories of roses and thoughts resting on the clouds. Why now? Why at this time?

It's too late now, isn't it? There is no way of doing it, no communication lines to open, no reason to speak at all...yet when I close my eyes, it's his face I see...and all that could have been.