note: feeling very emotional nowadays...R&R pls

This story is about learning to forget...
forget how much you once cared for someone, how much you loved
that someone,
all just to make that someone happy.
Even if you aren't.
If just for that someone's sake,
you will make yourself forget.
or at least try to.
Give it your best shot,
or die trying...

~Forgetting what?~
~her...forget her...~
~but why...~
~why can't I...~
~forget her?~

Forget her.
Forget everything.
That was my initial reaction to it. Forget her, forget this life, dammit, forget it all!
I never understood why I even fell in love with her. HER, it had to be her, why HER?? It didn't have to be her, did it?
No. I'm sure it didn't. There are what, several million other people in this planet, and I had to pick her to fall in love with, of all the choices...
No one ever suspected it. Not even my best friend...well, of course she wouldn't. Because that's who I fell in love with.
Well, I wouldn't exactly call her my 'best friend', or what. Coz that wasn't what she really was. I had a lot of friends, but there was this specific little circle of them whom I entrusted almost everything to, my dreams, my fears, my joys...she was in it. Best friends, or kinda. I didn't have a best friend.
But then, what else can you call that special someone, that person whom you call everyday just to talk, even if there's nothing to really talk about, the one who knows how to cheer you up when no one else knows how to, the friend among all friends? If it is not to be called a 'best friend', then what other term can give justice to it?
She wasn't perfect, though; in fact, she was as imperfect as any other ordinary human being could be. She got sick--a lot, in fact, she was very sickly. She was cold, prideful, not to mention irritable and moody. She didn't like to study, and was always slacking off until the last minute...She was also very sarcastic...cynism was her middle name. She stung me at times without her knowing it.
Sometimes, I stop and wonder, how could God have made me love such a creature?
But yet...she had those expressive, dark eyes which flashed annoyance, hurt, pride...everything was just there, in those eyes, for the whole world to see. And I loved it. I loved the fact that though she always kept up a cold front, her vulnerability still shone through. An ironic combination: Like fire and ice...
I still remember the first time I met her. It was in sixth grade, and the whole class was playing a game. I had found it childishly ridiculous, and I was only going through it because I had been forced to. I was just standing there, doing nothing...
then she came up to me, and told me to move over to one side.
I had decided then, that I didn't like her. At all. No one orders me around and gets away with it.
However, as the school year progressed...I had gotten to know her better, and learnt of her caring side. I was fascinated; I had never known such a nice person in the whole of my twelve years. How she was so open and friendly to everyone was but a mystery to me. I, who was cold, didn't trust anyone except for my then best friend at that time.
Slowly, I began to change. I opened up more, wanting to know this strange creature even better. How had she become what she was now...?
Years passed...and still we were yet but acquaintances. We had only started getting close in the summer of my first year at high school. At first, we only corresponded through e-mail, ranting on about how boring it was in our homes, how we wanted to get out and do something more exciting than stare at the computers. Needless to say, checking my e-mail then became the highlight of my day.
Then e-mails evolved into phone calls, and soon we were calling each other regularly every night. We would talk on until the wee hours of the morning, discussing everything from philosophy to foreign currencies to chocobos, debating with each other on the merits of bitter and milk chocolate. She was so easy to talk to; she always had an opinion on every topic I'd think of (not to mention sarcastic comments). I got along with her just fine.
I had not felt anything for her then. She was just a friend, an interesting one at that.
Second year came, and we were classmates. That was when I had discovered the other side of her...the side I had seen the first time I met her in sixth grade. Her pridefulness, her coldness, her inability to open herself fully. ( Of course she denies this, because her pride is at stake). Of course she didn't let it show...I just saw it in her eyes. The way she'd look at someone if that person was teasing her, the way her face would take on a look of anguish if someone tells her something that is not to her liking. She was always trying to hide her emotions, but I sensed them, nevertheless. Not all the time, though. She had always been a hard person to read.
I was new to this side of her. It was only this year when I had gotten to know her personally, and to be honest, it was quite...interesting. I never knew that she would have such a side as this...she was the 'motherly' one in our group, the one who was nice to everyone, the one who never ever made nasty comments. It was interesting to think that such a seemingly kind person would have such a side to her. Once again, it was ironic, like night and day, sunshine and shadow. There was a twist to her.
And I had thought I knew her well already...
I'm not one to say that I know her very well, because I don't. I only know what I can read out of her emotions, and out of what she tells me. Nothing more.
But I guess I know her better than some of my other friends, because most of the things that she tells me, she tells only to me, and to no one else...
I don't take pride in myself for that. I can, but I won't. What's there to take pride in if you know someone else's secret? It was another burden for me, I who had a lot of secrets inside me.
But it was a burden I was more than willing to carry.
The schoolyear ended, and we were all relieved. We had put up a play, and I was the scriptwriter...I had ended up cramming the whole script into one night. Tiring, but all my efforts had been worth it. The presentation had been a success.
She was props director. Well, of course, she was always head of props. Never there was a time when she wasn't in charge of props. I don't know why people always picked her to be leader of props; I guess it's always been like that.
I remember how she used to rant to me every night...about how tiring making props was, how so-and-so never wanted to cooperate with her, how this-and-that was always taking charge, so everything was disorganized. I couldn't do much to cheer her up or anything, since I was busy too-I was helping the head of music, and it was exasperating work. Nevertheless, I tried to be there for her 'rants', just nodding my way through it. I believed that it was unhealthy for her to keep her emotions bottled up like that, so I highly encouraged her ranting. Of course; I didn't want her to explode, did I?
I remember those nights...I always listened to her because each thing she said revealed much of her character. Like how easily annoyed she gets, as opposed to the peacemaker front she usually put up in school.
Yes, I remember those nights clearly...
I don't really remember when I started liking her, though. I just...did. Don't really remember how, or why. It was just that, there was this particular day when I couldn't stop thinking about her, for no apparent reason at all. And whenever I'd see her, I'd feel...unusually happy. It was a different kind of happy, a different kind of happy from when you get an A on a test you studied really hard for, or from the kind of happy you get when you see a friend you haven't seen for such a long time. was another kind of happy. I felt really happy, as if I could die right then and there, just because I'd already seen her.
Slowly, I figured out that I liked her. I liked her, a lot, so much, I wasn't already sure if it really was love or not. I'd spend each day thinking about her, wondering what she was doing, wondering how she was at the moment...and then realize what I was doing, and try to shake it off. This was one of the things I had vowed not to do, fall in love with a close friend.
Which I obviously broke. I had fallen, fast and dangerous...
We shared a weird relationship, the two of us. I was always teasing her in public view, but when we were alone, we'd really talk. And I was contented; who would want anything more than this? I was content in viewing her from afar, content that at least the relationship we shared was closer than her relations with any other of my friends. I knew where I stood, and there I stood proudly.
For a while, at least. Slowly, I began to feelings for her were going stronger and stronger everyday, so overpowering that it threatened to take over my mind, and my whole life. There was nothing else I could think about for a whole day...while I was shooting hoops, I thought of her. While I watched TV, I thought of her. While I talked on the phone to a friend, I thought of her. Nothing I did would make it go away.
I thought I was going to be driven mad. I was pushed already to the limit, on the brink of insanity...I had to let my feelings out. I *had* to tell her how I really felt about her, that I cared for her much more than a friend...
And I did. I was so nervous and angered at myself inside, I wept and laughed while telling her.
She thought it was a joke at first. It took awhile before it finally sank into her head that yes, I liked her, and yes, it had been for some time now.
The first question she asked me after I told her was ~why~. I told her, honestly, that I didn't know.
And I really didn't. Honestly, I don't know why I liked her. I just knew I did.
She also asked me why I told her. I told her that was because I was already going insane with the idea in my head. Which wasn't that thorough an explanation, of course...but I ~was~ going mad. All I could think about was her, though I didn't want to. She was my friend, this wasn't supposed to be happening to me...!
I liked her, and I also hated her for making her like me. I hated her because I liked her. Or more exact, I hated her yet I liked her. The thought of it just drove me insane, that I wanted to pound my head against the wall repeatedly. Is it even possible to hate someone so much, yet care for her so deeply? I had never known that to be true.
Love ~does~ conquer all. It conquers your mind, your very spirit, no matter how much you try to push it out. And finally, it does conquer all, if you're not strong enough to fight it, that is.
I'm not strong enough to fight it. Or at least I don't think so. I told her I liked her, even if part of me wasn't willing to accept that, so what can you call that?
We didn't correspond for around one day after I told her. Then I called her up the next day, to see how she was doing. She seemed to be fine...or at least I thought so. We talked for a while, then hung up. She said she was going to return my call.
She didn't.
I still don't know how exactly she felt when I told her that I liked her. Or maybe I don't want to know, because I already know.
That's why I'm trying to forget. Trying to forget what I feel for her, so that she'll be happy. Set her free from the enclosure she had put herself in once she learnt I liked her. I don't want her to suffer any longer.
And that's why I'm trying to forget. Trying to forget her, the first person, the first ~woman~, for crying out loud, who had made me love this much.
But then...
no matter how much I try to forget, I still cannot help it...
I cannot forget that girl...the girl that I still love...