"You hate yourself so much it's hard to love you."
I have to admit that I never saw this coming when I (we) watched the movie. More so from a Will Ferell flick. Ah well.
Oh, and I suppose this is worth noting: all of my HS barkada (who were with me that time) stared my way after this line was said.
They are all mine. (And not at all. Never.)
You were the first girl I couldn't talk to, my pre-school crush. I still remember your headband, and how in spite of that, your hair falls over your face to cover one of your eyes. I know your name still. I wonder why.
How could I ever forget that summer? I made it a point to play street basketball outside your house so I'd catch a glimpse of you every night. And you were always there, watching me. I know for certain because most of the time, I was alone and you were outside. This went on for days and you grew tired of waiting so you made your move; you talked to me. And since then, we said hi to each other. We even went to mass together. We were both in exclusive schools, all girls and all boys. Who would've thought they would organize an interaction between your class and mine? So on I went, passing the time, failing to bring the words to my mouth as I would for the years to come. So you grew tired of waiting. Finally. But I could still see how your eyes look when you smile at me. If that was out of amusement or pity, I've no way to find out now. And your dimples. I always find myself trapped in those.
Your house is just around the corner. Yet I failed to know you until years later. I made sure I passed your place whenever I walked or rode the bike. It wasn't too much trouble, really. And I like going the long way, which turned out to be too much at times. But I'm more familiar with that so I prefer it. Once, I tried taking a shortcut with you and that was one of the most stupid mistakes in my life. You recoiled. I still pass your house though I rarely see you now. I remember that time I was in your house and I saw your HS graduation portrait and I asked if you were Chinese. To which you said "No". Your hair was short then but it was long in that picture. I still think that long hair suits you better. Which was why I was stunned to see you a few hours ago that I had only managed to raise my hand in a half-hello, half-goodbye manner. It feels mostly goodbye though.
You were the first full-blooded Chinese girl I ever fell in "love" with. I recall that time when you were running for a political position in SC. You talked to me even if we didn't know each other and I, in my usual anti-social manner of dealing with people, ignored you. But then it hit me, I liked you. So I apologized and on we went to become good friends. And that was it. Besides, you were everyone's crush.
You were that Chinese girl from Malate, whose surname is the same as the previous one's middle name. You were in the same section as mine. Prose-prose is not a big hit at that time. I really must be in the wrong era.
You were that half-Chinese girl (from Malate as well), whose surname is similar to the other one from Malate. I recall thinking there was some sort of pattern here. As I would find out later, there is that. And I hate it. I never had a chance with you. But your friends egged me on. And I drew strength from that. A false one it seems to me now. Still I took the fall for you. And it was very difficult climbing back up, only to fall over and over, again and again. I'm over you, I think. But the way up to where I was (at least, where I thought I was) is steep.
You were that girl from Green & White, claiming affinity. You were the one who changed my original plan to keep distance with you people. I only joined that organization for the free yearbook. And yet you had decided to use me to make your boyfriend at that time jealous. It worked, actually. Months later, you apologized for that. Truth be told, I wasn't hurt by it. What pained me was that people thought I took advantage of you that night I held a drunken you in my arms. Still we stayed as friends. I would never have finished college had it not been for you. Still, even with all the pleasant memories I have of you, I'm still haunted by that early morning where I didn't do a thing. Well, sometimes.
You were that other girl from Green & White, also Chinese. I almost forgot about you. I ended up pursuing affinity because you left the country for Canada soon after we knew each other. It was a pity, really; we were the only ones in that organization who smoked. And that was exactly how I've come to know you. I had enjoyed our YM conversations from before. (Wow, it seemed so long ago.) When you moved to China to be an exchange student in your "home" country (I find this funny still.), we chatted more often. And you informed me of that time you planned to visit the Philippines again during your term break. And you did. And we saw each other. And after that kiss in your car before you dropped me off, I never heard from you again. Had I known that'd be the price for our correspondence, I would never have made that move. Stalemate.
You were the one of the two single moms I got to know well. I hung out at UM with you. And once, I brought you home and that cost me a good score for my quiz. It seemed worth the sacrifice that time.
You were that 25-year-old girl from Temple Bar, whose age I had managed to guess using my wit. And that was probably my error (And I suppose it still is). I used too much.
You were that Chinese girl I interviewed for Malate. You never passed though. How could you? I have personally experienced how you think. And it's really not much.
You were that Chinese girl I went out with once. I acted for you. Maybe that's what I am, just someone who plays a part in your stories and screenplays.
You were that whore. Chinese, too. (It almost seems like it's a given, isn't it?) Well, that's all. (No, it's not that one. She's coming up though.)
You are another girl from Green & White. It turns out you were friends with the mindless one and an acquaintance of the whore. It was amusing that you three were in different publications whose offices were located on the same floor of a rundown lasal building. I had reached a conclusion then that I may be overstaying my welcome in my school. My world there was getting smaller.
You. For that one night we shared, I love you. And I hate you.
I will always love your words.
You were that Korean girl, the first woman I ever tried picking up. And I had succeeded. Only to fail after one date (yet again, as always, forever).
We moved too fast, I think. Too fast that I fell off the ride just as quickly as I got on.
For all the nameless faces I never had the guts to approach. And those I failed to mention, intentionally and accidentally.
Eating lunch alone on my birthday, that is.
Well then. Haha.
