Amidst the ups and downs of that middle year, a significant personal event occurred, one I held close to my heart, known only to me. It all began as an inexplicable sensation, an emotion that emerged without warning.
Initially, I had doubts about the authenticity of these newfound feelings, wondering if they were mere passing fancies or genuine emotions. However, with time, I found myself increasingly engulfed by this sentiment, an emotion more substantial than a fleeting fancy.
I urge you to prepare yourself, for what follows might make you uncomfortable or queasy. At the tender age of fifteen, I was quite naive, and I was unaware of the gravity of the situation.
So, you may wonder, what was this overwhelming emotion that had overtaken me? As hesitant as I am, I will reveal it, as it is now but a distant memory. I was infatuated, completely captivated by a young lady.
The origin of these feelings remained a mystery. They appeared suddenly, confusing me, and took over my thoughts persistently. I had never intentionally tried to develop such emotions.
I confess that this newfound sentiment brought some happiness into my life. However, as a somewhat shy young man at the time, I concealed these emotions beneath a reserved demeanour. You may find my words unappealing, but I ask for your patience.
So, I began to steal discreet glances at her whenever I had the chance. When one is ensnared by infatuation, even the briefest glances become precious. I embarked on a secretive quest to learn more about her, although my efforts were shrouded in secrecy.
I could gather only limited information about her, as my pursuits were concealed. However, I learned that she was unattached and didn't stand out among my acquaintances. I longed for an opportunity to befriend her but solely in a platonic context. And if circumstances allowed, maybe to eventually reveal my hidden feelings. I am aware that this may disturb you.
Fortunately, my academic performance remained unaffected by these emotions. If anything, they contributed to a heightened sense of contentment throughout the year, even though they were unreciprocated.
I began to attach significance to even the smallest of connections between us. Whenever her name came up in conversations with my friends, my heart would involuntarily beat faster. I cherished these chance encounters, even though they might have appeared similar to any other random meetings.
Many such incidents related to her occurred, but I refrained from taking more overt steps towards friendship. Shame and fear of rejection instilled in me a desire for caution. I yearned for the right moment, believing that only then would I summon the courage to reveal my true intentions – to establish a friendship.
Unfortunately, nothing transpired between us. I wondered if she even noticed my presence among the crowd of faces. As time went on, I understood that there might be more opportunities for friendship in the future. However, one question lingers in my mind: Who was she?
A memory from my youth provides a humorous anecdote, illustrating my timid nature at the time. It involves my own birthday, an event of little personal significance, as I was not inclined to celebrate it extravagantly. Simply being alive and healthy was cause enough for celebration. I had no expectations of greetings or gifts, and the idea of surviving another year was celebration enough.
To my surprise, the young female residents of Asrama extended a flood of birthday wishes. While I appreciated their kind gestures, I found myself overwhelmed and flustered, responding only with a bashful smile. What began as a trickle of good wishes quickly turned into a torrent as more and more students took the opportunity to tease and jest, effectively deflating my sense of self-importance.
I was puzzled by the extent of the girls' knowledge about my birthday, as most of them were not individuals I had gotten to know. A disconcerting feeling of unease washed over me, intensifying as the day progressed.
From the moment I had my breakfast, until the evening meal, the girls' voices were a constant chorus of well-wishes. I longed for the day to end, as I was unaccustomed to such attention. I was naturally more reserved, and the spotlight was unwelcome.
As night fell, I finally found solace. I could retreat to the dormitory, escaping further encounters with the female students. In the quiet of solitude, I immersed myself in my Walkman and the pages of Kaido's Mangga magazine, relishing the peace.
However, an unexpected visitor arrived at my dormitory door – Iman, holding a box of biscuits and out of breath. He revealed that the female students had given me this gift, presenting the box with great ceremony.
Upon opening the box, I was surprised to find not biscuits but an exquisitely adorned doll. Its charm and beauty made me burst into spontaneous laughter. However, it showed signs of dust and neglect, indicating that it had been the subject of a joke.
Despite initial annoyance, my anger dissipated, replaced by shared laughter with Iman. I couldn't fathom the reason behind their concerted effort to tease me. Perhaps their time could have been better spent pursuing their own romantic interests.
Unfortunately, I couldn't keep the doll. I was determined that no one should know about the gift. I asked Iman to accompany me to the rear of the Asrama canteen, where I disposed of the doll in a large trash bin.
As I let go of the doll, I expressed my frustration, almost in jest, saying, "Oh Doll, Doll, I apologize for discarding you. May you come to life tonight and trouble the girls who consigned you to this box."
With this final act, I felt a sense of liberation. Only Iman had witnessed the episode, and I had no intention of sharing it with anyone else. A weight had been lifted, and as I ran back to Dorm 1 alongside Iman, I was filled with a profound sense of relief. This memory, though marked by youthful foolishness, continues to bring a smile to my face, cherished as a poignant memento of my youth.
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