I Got You (AlyDen Oneshots)

From A to D

Prompt: "It's not like I can't tell you this. It's more like I don't want to tell you this"

~*~

Dear, D

It's two am here. It's three am there. I know. I know because I never adjusted my watch. The time stayed at your timezone. Like how my heart stayed with yours.

I imagine you crouched in front of your study table, your eyeglasses perched on your nose, your eyebrows are creased in concentration to an anatomy book. I imagine you reaching for a cup of coffee that had gone cold. A cup of coffee that tastes weird because I wasn't the one who brewed it. I imagine you slipping beneath the covers and looking over to my side of the bed. I imagine you sighing and looking out the window and thinking about me at 3 am. 3 am, you said, is a time for regrets and what ifs. And I  was your greatest one.

We exchanged jerseys often. We even borrow each other's knee pads. We fight on what movies to watch because you would insist on creepy mystery thriller movies while I go for the Rom-com types. We would ride the van going to the games and you would pull my earphone out and stuff it in your ear with the reason that we listen to the same songs (and something about energy conservation). We shared secrets, about something, anything and everything. (we argued that something and anything was not the same thing) But, I kept one secret with me, that I'm in love with you.

You had no idea, right? Not until I told you. I remember you asking since when. And I remembered fumbling for an answer. It's not that I'm not sure. It's just that I'm in love with you for the longest time that I don't know for sure when and how it started. I just know that I'm in love with you and I'm doing it every single day.

Maybe when I first caught a glimpse of you when you walked in the San Juan Arena. Maybe it was the first time I met those baby blue eyes. Maybe it was the way you smile while playing. Maybe it was the first time I saw you in BEG. Maybe it was when I first saw you wearing your signature no. 13 jersey. Maybe it was the first time you stood me up after landing from a spike. Maybe it was the pat on the back you gave me after a point when I was still a rookie. Maybe it was you saying to hit the ball because you got my back. Maybe it was the way you froze in place when I had a bad fall. Maybe it was your pancake saves. Maybe it was your digs. Maybe it was the way you took care of me when I had cramps or sprained ankle. Maybe it was the way you would hug me after a game.

Maybe it was the way you wake me up in the morning. Maybe it was the way you always look good in ripped jeans. Maybe it was the way you dance silly. Maybe it was your bad singing voice. Maybe it was the way it felt having you on my passenger seat. Maybe it was the way you look at me every time there's a clingy fan. Maybe it was you. Maybe I know that was how love was supposed to look like. And God, maybe I know that love, for me, is always going to look like you.

How is that I never told you before? Because I was always a second, a minute too late. We were 18 and there came Myco. We were 20 and there came LA. It doesn't matter what age we are. I could be 24 now and you could be 25 and another person gets to hold you the way that I never could. Another person that gets to show you off to the world the way that I never could. There's one thing another person couldn't do more than me tho. And that is to love you in a way that no person could ever do.

You asked me before I leave for Thailand, why now? Because why not now? It has been what? Six? Seven? Eight years? I waited long enough, don't you think? I know you love him. I know how happy you are with him. I know that when it comes down to it, you're gonna choose him. But, I want to tell you, the first and last time. You deserve to know because I feel like I'm lying to you when you know every part of me but didn't know that a huge part of me was in love with you— is still in love with you.

I don't deserve you. Never did. Never will. I just don't want to wander around with what ifs 30 years from now and thinking what would've happened if I told her, even if it was just once. But, you said nothing. I told you I love you and you said nothing.

How could you not know? Because, all these people, they took one look at me. They took one look at how I look at you and they can tell "hey that girl is in love with her". I don't get it. What is in me that those people can see but you couldn't? You look at me everyday, how had you not seen that coming?

It doesn't matter now, right? You're happy with him. You're happy without me. You're living a life, a world where I don't even matter. What change would my feelings or worthless three little words do? Nothing. Nothing. That's all I ever get from you. These petty feelings? I took me years of hiding. Those worthless three little words? It took me years before I get to utter them. And what do I get? Nothing.

It's three am now and you're probably asleep while here I am, writing a letter I wouldn't even send. I just want to tell you that it takes everything in me not to call you. On drunken nights, I shut off my phone and hide it because I'm scared to dial your number and mutter all the remaining I love yous that died on my lips. I stared at your contact no. earlier, debating whether or not to call you to greet a happy birthday. I almost did but, I didn't. Saying I love you and getting nothing is something. But, risking a Hello for another goodbye is another thing. I remember that one time we argued about the difference between anything and something. You were my something but I was just your anything.

Signed,
A