What We’re Doing Is Wrong




After we went our separate ways after that first ‘date,’ I assumed it was the last time we’d see each other. Because I did not want to be in that position and I didn’t want to put you in that position. There was only one word to describe it: Wrong.

What we’re doing, what we did, what we plan to do, all those add up to that one big word. We were both wrong, but neither of us ever said anything about it. We stayed silent about the truth, as if that would hide the things we refused to accept.

I told you I liked you. It was the surge of my impulsive personality, a mix of both romance and confusion. I knew you liked me too, even before you said it yourself, because a friend told me.

I stalked you. Once. I knew you had a girlfriend.

I should stop pretending that our night conversations could’ve led to something else. Because it’s simple: You are hers and she is yours. I am very much out of the equation. 

The truth is, I don’t know how else to tell you. Every time I walk the hallways, I always see guilt staring down at me, pinning my soul to the ground. I realize how whorish and slutty I seem by pulling you away from the girl you’ve dedicated your life to. I don’t want judgement, but I brought it upon myself when I confessed my admiration to you.

But God, you said the words I dreaded to hear. The admission was not the biggest mistake, it was the date. We could have been two ordinary people with different lives, even with the confession. I like you, you like me, so what? It was just a petty little crush anyway.

But what happened next? I messed things up for you. I introduced you to my world. My music, my movies, my weird cheery side. I guess that’s what made you fall. But it’s a trap, darling, it’s the plot twist of the crazy story you have mistakenly encountered.

My love for local independent art became the topic of our conversations until it came to a point where you had to see it for yourself. That was when we went out for the first time. I prayed for some divine intervention that would have stopped the event from happening, because I could not say no to you.

I wished that the refusal would have come from you. Sadly, you too enjoyed the idea of it. So for the first time, I defied my principles in the name of love.

I would never go out with a guy who had a girlfriend. But I did.

And we watched a movie together — but she did not know you went out with me. I feel like apologizing to her because of what I did. But you see, I could not bring myself to do that. To do the right thing.

I like you, and I could not stop liking you no matter how complicated our situation becomes. I swear to you that I’m always on your side, yours and hers.

I want you to be happy together. I want you to fix that relationship. I want you to marry her, or have kids with her. I want you to want her just as much as you wanted her the first time.

I can promise you that I can handle the pain, the heartbreak, the tears, the sleepless nights, the paranoia and the hurt. I promise to move on. Just choose her, because she deserves you more than I do. Because I change my mind all the time. That’s who I am. I live my life moving forward. I get hurt, then move on. I’m so used to that, used to all the pain, that I no longer need anyone to help me get through it.

But you kept coming back. You never said that you liked me, or that you were dating me, or that we were in some kind of relationship, but we went out, twice, to watch a romantic movie. That does not happen between two ordinary people.

You’re special to me and I don’t want to ruin that idea. The idea of your smile and your laugh, of your eyes, of that long hair that I like, of your faith which I don’t have, of your dim pastel clothes, of your photographs, of your sweet niece even if we haven’t met, of your dream of becoming an accountant, of your love for DOTA, and of everything that is you.

I want to capture you in that happy moment where things are okay for us, where we’re good friends. I don’t want to see you hurting because it hurts me, and I can’t bear the fact that she is hurting too. That if we continue this truth, I will be the one to cause you that pain.

So lie to me, please. Say that you’re letting me go because we shouldn’t be doing this in the first place. Say that you’re holding her hand again. Say that you love her more than anything else in the world.

Say something that would hurt me, big time, so that I’d get over you and live my simple life again.

Say those words for me, darling, because I am not brave enough to tell the truth to myself.