Letter #15902: To IA

Looking back, I realize that I should have known.

I should have known the moment our barkada was complete. Everyone showed up. The last time all six of us were there was my birthday two years ago. And it hasn't happened since.

I should have know when there weren't any awkward silences. Nobody separated themselves into their own little groups. Everyone was a part of the conversation. Which was unusual in any of our past get-togethers with the rest of our friends without having the need to play a complicated game of some sort.

I should have known when, the moment I saw you entering the room, I did not try to hide how I feel. We acted normal. Any attraction that I felt towards you was, for the first time, not unwelcome. I looked you in the eye and smiled, and I did not feel shy or any regret.

I should have known with the way you looked at me and smiled back. We all said our hi's and hello's to you and our friends you came with, patting each other and hugging. You hugged me, and at that moment, I should have known. Because you never did.

There were other signs. Instances that whispered that none of it was true - hands touching, glances lingering, lips kissing...

I know, I should have known. But I did not know. That is why when I woke up, it was still a surprise to find out it was all a dream. And that even after all these years, you still surprise me the way you used to.