I confessed to him on a rainy day when I was fourteen. I told him I love him. What he did after, made me regret confessing my feelings to him. He didn’t give me an answer right away because I had left the room blushing, embarrassed, my heart was pounding in my chest. Then when I came back to the room, he asked me if it’s okay for him to take some time to give me an answer. What I expected from him was he’d say he loves me back in an instant or even chase after me when I left the room, I shouldn’t have had expectations. I waited three days, nervous about why he was taking so long but didn’t say anything because I was ready to sacrifice anything for him, I was so anxious that I felt nauseous, nauseous after thinking what will I do if he rejects me, how will I ever look him in the eyes, I was afraid. Three days passed and he answered that, he loves me too, which made me slightly better but made me ponder why he had to take so long to answer if he was certain that he loved me?
I love him from my childhood because we grew up together, but in different city and village, he’s in the village while I’m in the city, still we could meet once or twice a year in vacation. I guess visiting him or seeing him once or twice a year was enough for him because he cheated on me a year later. But for me, it was a great achievement that we could talk, spend time together, I would miss him all the time, would yearn for him because there was no way for us to communicate but to meet face to face but we were too far away to do it. Maybe it’s the fault of the distance. Maybe it’s me who is faulty.
Now all I know is, he’s my first love and my greatest regret.
Although I doubt I’ll ever unlove him.