Just Right
I can’t stop smiling. I just can’t, okay? Well, excuse me for feeling happy. I’ve been feeling happy for three straight days already. This is some hang over! Well, I’m not feeling extremely euphoric but I feel like nothing’s going to break me down…even Single Awareness Day! (i.e. Valentine’s Day) Yes, even on that fateful Tuesday where I will be slapped on the face the whole day even by people I don’t know. But because Friday happened, I think I’ll be able to face that day happy, if not smiling. What was so special about Friday? Well, I just spent some time with someone that’s all. No, it wasn’t a date! It wasn’t even close to a date! It was for academic purposes. I swear! So, don’t you dare smirk in your seat as you read this entry. Don’t you dare!!! If you do, I will make sure that you will resent that!!! Anyway, this guy is no gorgeous demigod who can make girls swoon just by the mere mention of his name. He’s not gorgeous at all. He’s actually someone you just might pass by without a glance. Don’t get me wrong though, he’s not ugly. He’s…just right. He has this unusual charm— mysterious and endearing…this is probably because of his seemingly fragile countenance that makes me feel I should take care of him for fear that he’ll get swept away by the wind and I’d lose the only guy who has made me feel this way. I really don’t know. Like before, I really don’t understand for certain why I like him so much. All I have are hypotheses to explain the phenomenon happening everytime I’m with him. When I’m with him, I don’t feel like a divine goddess but I don’t feel like the biggest freak of nature either. He makes me feel that I am good enough for him…that I am…just right…and this feeling that I am good enough makes me feel somewhat sublime— at least in his eyes, I think. It’s good to know that you’re good enough as you are to someone. I dunno. It’s just that there’s something in the way he looks at me, the way he talks to me that makes me think that he sees and appreciates my positive traits (if I have any) and that he sees my flaws and shortcomings as well but he somehow sees them as the things that make me different from the rest —and if I’m not mistaken, he has a thing for the unconventional…just like me! hehe…Anyway, it’ s good to be with someone who, without trying so hard, sees who you are and likes what he sees without you trying so hard to make him feel thus. I guess I enjoy this break time between my masquerade performances for my demigod’s entertainment (? Attention?). I guess I enjoy being noticed by him without me trying to make him. Though, I don’t feel ultimately euphoric or “kinikilig” but I don’t feel bored either. I feel like I’m just hanging out with a very close friend. It just feels right. When I hugged him, it felt…you got it! Right! I don’t know why it felt like that but the fact still remains that it did. I mean, he’s not a chubby, huggable guy who can act like your life-size teddy bear. He’s not a hot, you-can-cry-on-my-macho-shoulders kind of guy. He’s actually kinda skinny but his skinny look suits him. If I may say so, his being skinny is probably the reason why he fit like a key to a lock in my arms (eew, pardon the cheesy line, I couldn’t think of anything else). It felt like he really belonged there. I just hope he felt that way too but I may be asking too much. It was really funny because three people mistook us for a couple. I was the only one who reacted loudly about the accusations and he just sat there and took everything. It makes me wonder if he thinks that those accusations were just right. I really wonder what goes on inside that poetic head of his. I wonder if he’s writing a poem about me right now…oops, I’m wandering on the realms of wishful thinking once more.
Oh no, I might end up feeling sad again because of this guy. Whatever! I’m happy right now. I’ll deal with that when it comes. nyaha.
P.S.
After reading what I’ve written earlier, I realized that it’s not as eloquent as the others I’ve written before. Could this be a sign of my refusal to sugarcoat my thoughts and feelings through flowery words so as to express myself with complete sincerity? Nah. I guess I have just exhausted my literary powers. My muse must have left me already. So must I.
