Midnight Memories

IV

My friends are concerned.

I've never been in love. This is the very first time. It still feels weird to admit it. To be honest, I could still hardly believe it.

"You're in love," my friend told me.

Mind you, she's one of the most observant people I know. She won't just say shit like that out of the blue or just because. If she says something, she means it.

I remember looking at her with disbelief then as I snorted and said, "No."

I was in denial.

How can I be in love? We've only known each other for less than two months! How the hell can I fall in love with someone in a span of a few weeks?

That's so... unrealistic... right?

But then, if I wasn't in love, why does it hurt so much? If I wasn't in love, why is it that with just the thought of not seeing you again makes me so sad? If I wasn't in love, why am I willing to have you as my friend than not be in my life at all?

Why do I have to express myself through writing just to stop myself from messaging you? Why is it that through writing this, I'm starting to understand more?

Like the fact that I was an idiot for suggesting that 'enjoying the moment' bullshit. Or the fact that no matter how long I waited, you wouldn't change your mind.

Fine.

I'm in love.

There, I said it.

I'm not sure when or how it happened.

It could be that very first night we met, when I was bored at a party and joked for you to fly and whisk me away like a hero. But you took it seriously. You really did go to where I was and rescued me.

You whisked me away.

It could be that time at 2AM, when you offered to cook katsu for me and bring it over to my place just because I was hungry. I refused because I didn't want to hassle you. But I regretted it an hour later when you sent a photo of the freshly cooked katsu.

It could be that Friday night when we ate at that Korean place in Makati. It was well after midnight and you asked me if I wanted to go home after eating. I didn't. You told me you didn't want to go home either. So we ended up driving around the city, with no destination in mind.

You bought 6 bottles of alcohol afterwards, then we found a parking lot in Fort where we could chill and drink. We reclined our seats and gazed at the starless night sky through the sunroof of your car.

And we just talked... until we fell asleep.

It could be that one Sunday night when I got so drunk and texted you, telling you how you were my ideal guy – after only meeting you for a week.

A fucking week.

You didn't make a big deal out of it. Sure, you laughed and teased me the next day. But mostly, you were cool about it.

It could be that time when I told you I liked Causeway's yang chow (you know that I don't like Chinese food) and you were completely perplexed, saying your special fried rice was way better than that. Right then, you cooked your fried rice so that you could take it to me and prove it. You chopped, cooked, and drove all the way from your place to mine – probably expecting to see my shocked and delighted face when I finally had a taste of it.

But what I did instead was nod and say, "Well, it's good but not really better..."

I laughed out loud when you had that weird expression on your face, as if you couldn't believe I had the nerve to think your cooking wasn't the best.