I remembered the first time you named me with your playful nickname. I told you I did not want to be named other than my own name but you refused to listen. Whenever we meet, you never fail to tease me with your new found nickname for me. Most of the times, I never want to acknowledge it. Perhaps I’m stubborn. Perhaps I’m too serious to play this kind of game. Whatever it is, I begin to adapt to the nickname you gave me.
I wanted a sweet revenge. I created a nickname for you too. You take it with a smile on your face. I could never make you get angry at me, no matter what I do. You take everything so lightly in whatever I say. Sweet words, thoughtful actions and the way you say your teasing words slowly setting itself way into my heart without my conscious consent. I make it clear to myself that this is you being you and nothing more.
One day, you make me startled when you said the words I would not say if I do not mean it. I knew then not to take you seriously because when I do, I do not how to face you and my feelings for you. I dismiss the thoughts because I do not want to fall when you are not there to catch me. I could not dissect your feelings as you always being nice to everyone. It is sort of hard to tell. From now I tell myself I’m not taking the risk to wound my heart again.
It was a jolly night where everyone drinking and yanking away when it happened. The very thing I surprise myself with. I wished time had stopped the moment I realized what I did. I wished I had the clock turned just that few minutes backward and acted differently. But all these did not happen. Instead I’m left with a scar and endless questions I throw to myself trying to give a valid reason for things to happen that way. Nothing. No answer. This is so frustrating. Within the free will that is given, circumstances take over when the choice is made.
Wrong choice made. I hardly make one. Why this has to be the one? Am I too consumed with my own self-made feelings that I ended up being irrational?