My reactions to the plot twist that had just happened.
I just now found out that the girl I currently have a crush on and the girl I miraculously found on Facebook by sheer accident and had assumed to be my crush were apparently two different people altogether. I am perplexed, at the very least. On the other extreme, I am crying about it because how the actual fuck could I have mistaken one person for another? And why does that other girl look so much like that girl that I actually like? And why, why, why is she also in our school?? Or is she really?? Was she just added to the campus branch group randomly? Who the hell is she?? The questions make my head swim!!
This girl I had mistaken—let’s call her F—isn’t really a girl anymore; a few Google searches (yes I’m that hardcore) revealed that she had graduated from UP a decade(!) ago, and that she is an accomplished person, and travels the globe on a regular basis. I never found out which campus she graduated from, though. She did have pictures of herself posted, and I did view them, and I was more than 70% positive it was the girl I was chasing around the campus. Yes, that’s how much the likeness was. I went on telling my friends about my discovery: about the miracle of me finding her without a clue of who she was, about how rich and high and mighty she was, and how insignificant I am as compared to her being, and how my mix CD might as well be given to an elephant. I continued to pine, however. Of course I did.
And then my friend told me that a friend of hers actually knew the girl I liked, and so this very helpful friend of mine asked for her name.. Imagine my shock when the name she gave was something else entirely. Of course I was skeptic; what the fuck man, I had already found her, what’re you doing going around telling me she has a different name? So when the internet came back on, I immediately went to look for this new name on Facebook—let’s call her B. The moment I saw her profile picture, I was overcome with panic, because that there was definitely her. 1000000000% per cent. No fucking doubt about it, not this time. I was so confused for a while that my brain actually stopped functioning and all I could do was stare dumbly at the monitor while emitting low frequency sounds from my gaping mouth. After a moment it evolved into a full-fledged scream, so much so that I had to bury my face in a pillow if I didn’t want the neighbours to think I was being assaulted.
Long things short, I panicked.
I panicked about how it could have been possible that I believed my own idea so easily, how these people looked so remarkably the same yet not quite exactly alike, how could I have mistaken them for each other, how a lot of evidence pointed to the earlier assumption that F was her, and how the lack of anything except the single concrete proof of B‘s unmistakable face toppled that earlier assumption down so easily. I panicked about how easily my senses could be deceived, and how long I could hold on to such a deception, and by my own hand, too.
The good news is, she’s not as distant—socially—as I had initially feared. She’s not a jetset traveller publishing her own magazines or swimming in fancy beaches. She really is just a student, like me. Only I think she’s about to graduate this year, and she’s sort of a member of the student body or something. That makes her still a far cry from the teenage dirtbag I can only dream she is, and that I actually am.
But at least now, I am a little more determined to give her the tape and just run with whatever happens, or won’t happen. Earlier today I had the perfect chance to do it, but I fucking pussied out because I wasn’t expecting to meet her coming up those stairs as I was going down, and my heart kind of stopped and I think I actually staggered back when she made brief eye contact with me—twice. I felt my knees turn to jelly; I was mute for a few minutes. The pathwalk was empty, and it was only the three of us—my bestfriend, me, and her—that was there, and it was the best chance there could ever be to give it to her. It was only after a few minutes—and her having walked around the corner already—that I remembered I had the CD on my person, and that I could give it to her, and that I should because this situation couldn’t get any better. But like I said, she was already rounding the corner, and the next moment was gone. I couldn’t have chased her, and anyway, the other kids were starting to come up the stairs too. The moment had passed my pussiness by, and I regret it to this very minute.
I won’t pass up the next opportunity, though. I promise.