In the bus station, I saw a medium-built guy. Everyone will describe him as and typical tall, dark and handsome but in for me, he isn't typical.
He has a pair of warm shade hazel eyes which can seek for lost souls. His nose is perfect that Adam will feel lasting envy. My favorite part is his lips. I lick mine as I gaze it. The shade isn't pink but it suits him. His posture is witty. The simple shirt makes his appeal more natural and more stunning. I bet he can compete with those perfect model in billboards.
The thing that takes my attention is the color of his shirt. It's gray. It looks so pleasant to him. Other people might think that we are friends or a couple—I hope so.
When the bus arrived, he let me in first then, he followed. My heart was pumping so much blood as I feel sheer ecstasy. What's this? I can't explain what's going on.
I managed to sit a meter beside him. With that distance, I can still smell his mild scented cologne. I want to eliminate our distance but I can't. Someone is seating next to him. She's not pretty. With her looks and posture, I can say I'm better than her. Yet this time, I'm silently killing myself by wishing to be in her position just this once.
Feeling of envy, nervousness and frustration begin to live. No, I shouldn't envy someone below my level. I cursed myself for being jealous.
The girl leaves her position when we reach the first bus stop. I leave my pretty space and sit next to him. As I checked our position, I smile the same as he did. We're sharing smiles when the driver harshly steps on the brake.
That moment, I realized something. It's against the norms that everyone believes in! I shouted deep inside myself. I shouldn't like him the way that I do. Obviously, I am in his right but he can't say that I am the right one for him. The scene becomes more cliché when the cassette starting to play Glaiza de Castro's voice as she sings 'till it's time.
You know what, I already felt heart-breaking volts which shocks my body when I wrote this story in a bus where he stares right into my heart. It's our first meeting and our last goodbye because we can't be.
I love you
But I'm afraid this can't go on
He would never say that I'm the right one for him. Society will judge us both. Standards and norms can be hurtful sometimes. Realization gradually kills me when pulling out my identification card and put it on my shirt. I'm hoping that another name was engraved into it but it's impossible.
If there is something that remains forever, I think it's our name upon birth. No matter how many times you change it, your late name was still stitched in you. It leaves a mark in the society. In my case, it was ERIC.