Wrote this in my Form 5 year, in 2003. Entered it for an essay competition actually. Well, I'm publishing it here in its original form, which looking now, is a rather raw, or perhaps very honest style of writing. Be warned: It's rather long.
Unfulfilled Dreams
The story I’m about to tell is something real, yet a fantasy. Though it may sound ridiculous to some, I’m sure most teenage girls have similar experience, perhaps, not with the same result. The experience brings with it a wealth of feelings, mostly intense. The story begins several years back:
For the year-end concert, we were going to put up a musical play, based on one of the most popular musicals of all time, The Sound of Music. Two classes of students teamed up, combined with two teachers. To prepare ourselves, we watched the film. Then, we took some excerpts from the show, deciding on three scenes, which included 3 songs. All through the three scenes, the girls and boys were to be paired, finally coming together to dance in the last scene.
Next, of course, we had to choose the cast. After deciding who will join the musical, the girls had the novelty of picking their partners. Two boys were left, the choice between a friend and me. We decided to draw lots. I slowly opened the piece of paper, my heart thumping in accordance to a young girl’s nature. Then, I saw a name. I didn’t really know him. I knew who he was, but we never talked much.
This boy, he was different from the others. He had an aura of indifference and mystery, compelling me to find out more about him. He was considerably tall and thin. Though he was quite good-looking, he never got much attention from girls, perhaps the result of his coolness. Well, that suited me just fine. I didn’t want other girls ogling at him. He was mine, and mine for admiration. That was what I thought at that time.
We had to practice dancing for the last scene, which was a ballroom scene. At first, we tried waltz. He did not want to put his hands on my waist, and he was not the only one. Due to the reluctance of the boys, we finally did a dance that required no touching at the waist. Looking back, I seriously enjoyed every moment we spent dancing together. I can remember, how both our palms were sweaty and how awkward we felt, looking at each other. At the concert, all of us gave a splendid performance and all loved the musical play.
The next year, we were placed together in the same class. How overjoyed I was! When our class decided to put together a class magazine, both of us were chosen as the graphic designers, adding more to my happiness. We discussed ideas and once, I even sat next to him in class. Though we never made the magazine, it was still an accomplishment for me.
All through the year, we talked and he asked me for my help on several occasions. I thought of all these as little, tiny signals he was giving me as a sign that he loved me. It had never occurred to me that I was reading a lot more into things that actually meant nothing.
We arranged a trip to Singapore, the whole form. I felt excited when I heard that he had registered for the trip. When I packed my clothes, I picked those that I thought looked good on me, as I wanted to look my best if front of him. I was bound to be disappointed. On the day we were supposed to go, I heard that two days before that, he was attacked by appendicitis and was to remain in the hospital for a week, therefore unable to go with us. I was greatly concerned.
The following year brought a season of changes, unfortunately not for the better. We were still in the same class, and at first, I did not notice anything. As usual, when an opportunity to speak to him presented itself, I took it. To my surprise, he did not respond. It was the beginning of the end of speech between us.
The experience and feelings I endured during this year was not something I would like to remember, but I knew, that I would never forget it. He began to avoid me, not even looking at me, as though I was a piece of garbage in his eyes and the sight of me disgusted him. Whenever he saw me coming, he would turn on his heels and walk the other way. It hurt me greatly and I was confused. What had I done to offend him?
Later, I found out his side of the story from his sister. According to her, there were rumours spreading, saying that I had a crush on him. He did not believe it immediately but then, it became too strong for him as more and more people told him that I like him. To him, I was nothing more than a friend, and I saw clearly my own misconceptions.
During this year, he openly showed his contempt for me. I felt so much tension whenever we were both in the same room. It might be just my sensitivity. He seemed to have a look of dislike and aloofness he specially reserved for me. After all, he had no reason to give that expression to anyone else. His actions always seemed to be contained in my presence. If he was laughing, the smile would disappear from his face and laughter died in his eyes. I felt wounded, yet strangely elated that I had the power to make him react in a different way. It helped boost my pride, but a cut was enlarging in my heart.
He treated me similarly for the next two years. He has not spoken to me for 3 years. Over the years, I would have expected my feelings for him to die. After all, it was just a crush. But it was not to be so. Instead, my feelings developed and changed from infatuation to respect. His ill treatment towards me seems to have made me like him even more. I am not sure whether to use the word “love” because that word seems to be too serious and I believe that word is used for adults.
I do not know if he will ever return my feelings. Now, I am content if I can just be his friend. However, he will always mean more to me than a friend and in some ways, he has made me grow up and understand more about emotions. The wound in my heart has not mended, as it is still under fresh attacks. I have given up hope that he will smile at me or say a word to me out of his own initiative. Perhaps this story is best remembered as a dream. Sometimes, it is better to remain that way. For now, it is an unfulfilled dream.
