We, whether we admit it or not, have imagined how our love story goes. From the day that you two will meet, the first conversation, the first kiss, random surprises, petty fights, misunderstandings, we have everything laid out in our minds.
A few months ago, when I was still single, I imagined how my love story would begin, how it would progress, and how it would last. Every night, I did that. And I never missed a single day. And here’s how it went:
I imagined that I will meet my partner through a friend, a party maybe. We would be introduced to each other. Hi. Hello. Nothing more. Then we would get invited to sit next to each other in one table. To avoid the awkwardness, we both tried to start a conversation about work, our common friends, where we studied.
Before that night ends, we would be comfortably talking to each other. We bade goodbye knowing we both found a new friend in each other.
Upon arriving at home, I received a text from an unregistered number hoping that I got home safe. Asking who it was, you responded with your name and we texted until the wee hours of dawn.
Days of exchanging text messages and calls, you finally asked if maybe we can grab lunch. Smooth. Of course, if you wanted us to have dinner I would’ve thought that you like me and you were making your move. But lunch? Who would put malice on a lunch invitation?
Knowing from the first day that we both work in Makati, we decided to meet in a restaurant in Greenbelt. Seeing you already there in your corporate attire, all smiles, I couldn’t help but feel giddy. But of course, I tried to conceal it from you.
It was my first time eating there so you ordered for us. The food was good. Maybe greater knowing that I waswith you. After lunch, we went back to our respective offices. I tried my best not to text you thinking that maybe you would notice that I like you.
But you. You sent a message expressing how you enjoyed lunch, specially in my company. That prompted me not to suppress my feelings anymore and just let it grow as days with you went by.
The rest as they said was history. We dated for three months until we became official. You never failed to surprise me. Once, while I was with my friends, you approached with a bouquet of roses and food for everyone. I never liked receiving flowers, but when it was from you, I guess I didn’t mind. You would also sometimes cook for me the whole day whenever I stayed at your condo unit.
For my birthday, you surprised me with a ticket to Boracay because you knew that I’ve never been there.
A year and a half into the relationship, you asked me to move in with you. Of course, before that, I’ve already introduced you to my mother. I still haven’t told my father about me, about us. But you, you were so proud of me. You always made sure that I was in every celebration of your family. I loved every bit of it.
We would fight at times, over things that only us could comprehend. I would get jealous of your officemates. At first you found it cute but eventually got irritated. But you never yelled at me. You just assured me how much you love me and me being jealous over things was just useless.
We would also fight about where we want to eat, which movie to watch, who would wash the dishes, who would bring the clothes to the laundry. Oh, we would fight like hell. But we always made up.
I always hoped that my story would eventually come true. A cinematic love story. And for a time, I strongly believed that it will happen. That my soon-to-be partner who will sweep me off my feet will come in a way I imagined it.
Then you came. The scenario maybe rather odd for others, but there you are. Speed dating?! People are even surprised that such a thing exists in the Philippines.
I noticed you, alright, but I have to admit that you didn’t give me that much of an impact. But from the moment we talked about our jobs, why we were where we were that night, I already felt the spark.
We did not meet through a common friend. We met because we are avid followers of a blog. We weren’t made to sit beside each other in one table, desperately trying to break the awkward silence. We were there in one table, talking with others about work and stuff when someone said that we look good together. The room went berserk.
There was no lunch date. Instead, a late night trip at a bar with our new-found friends. Hesitant at first, we eventually danced with each other, suddenly not minding everyone around us.
It might not be how I imagined we would meet, but I loved how it went. How we came to be. Our beginning may not pass as a Star Cinema story, but hell, ours would still be a blockbuster hit.
I finished imagining how my love story would go the day I met you. What’s the use in continuing, when I’m already living it?
Our story is just beginning, with plenty of bumps along the way. But we manage to get up and be stronger. Much, much stronger. I may do stupid things at times. But that doesn’t devalue what I feel for you. We may fight over things, but we will always make up. We learn from it. We make it a foundation for us to be stronger.
Ours may not exactly be the stereotypical love story. One week after we met and we’re already together. Many found it too soon. Some admired that we clicked that fast. But I don’t care what they say.
Ours may not exactly be the stereotypical love story. Ours may not make it as a Star Cinema, Lauren Dyogi-helmed film. We don’t have a cheesy love song title as our story’s title, but this I have to say:
Our story is not how I imagined it to be. It is much, much better.