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      UNTIL CAME Gwend!


I had several of them. Several of whom people call ex-girlfriends. I had a lot of enduring experiences with them, like being squeezed by the wrath-filled eyes and crushed with notorious words of two damsels in distress when I was caught by my ex-girlfriend with another ex-girlfriend wandering inside the city’s department store.

So realistic isn’t it? So common, so ordinary. I know many men experience this scene too. But who are we to blame anyway? Sometimes it just pays off to be adorable and damn good-looking.

My relationships with them became unforgettable chapters of my life. But none made it as meaningful as the whole book, until came Gwend.

Her five-letter name appeared so holy inside the chat box of my desktop. It gave me this bizarre feeling of security I wanted to meet her personally right away. But I kept calm. I realized i was chatting with a 16 year old girl who, I believed, had the same views with the other teenagers about chatting across technology: only for fun and excitement.

We chatted for weeks. To my surprise, my fingers were already hooked above the keyboard, my nose above the monitor. Her words filled me with enthusiasm until I felt my days become weary without a message from her. Images kept forming inside my head…figures of how she’d look like….until a day before her 17th birthday, we decided to meet.

I was so overwhelmed about my feelings I didn’t care how I looked. Clad in my shorts and white polo shirt, I stood in a bus stop near their house when, she appeared…she wore a yellow shirt as bright as the sun. Then she called for me.

I stared directly to her eyes. Her eyes, which are full of life, smiled. Exquisite brows arch above her gorgeous eyelashes and her cute little nose perched above them. Her cherry-colored lips, lavishly sculptured, looked awesome. High cheekbones are covered with glorious auburn hair and yeah, your right about her skin…it looked like porcelain. Extravagant as it may seem, but it’s true. She’s the most heavenly-looking girl I’ve ever seen.

We talked…with me unable to compose, unable to stop myself from fidgeting. I was definitely amazed upon seeing her. She didn’t look like the 16 year old girl I expected her to be. That day, she looked just like the woman I translucently see in my dreams.

We became friends and eventually fell in love. She became my girlfriend 12 days after her birthday. I was the happiest man in the planet. Though she was still studying and was remotely away from me, I’ve never stopped falling more and more in love with her. At times, we decided to see each other. Looking at her made me realize God does exist. In her heart, I wanted to stay.

Our families were also happy for us. Whenever my friends ask me why I love her, I couldn’t think of anything but I just love her it hurts me in the gut.

But then again, since we’re in a long distance relationship, I can’t help but be stormed with free-flowing insecurities. There’s the popular campus guy, with neat cleats above the shoulder and the minutes of their last council meeting tucked under his arm, no doubt, she might be giggling with the other girls whenever he passed by. There are the numerous desperate boys who are eager to have her phone number and there’s the guy best friend…Hell, she’s got lots of them. I love her, and she claimed she loves me. That alone was enough.

Unfortunately, we forgot to weigh one major insecurity—the ex-boyfriend. Just like the other guys, I also hate history….especially Gwend’s history. and the moment I knew her ex-boyfriend still texted her, everything bad came up—words, cries, jealousy, break-up.

I just woke up one day realizing how stupid I’ve become. Gwend was outraged. I tried to ask for forgiveness, so ready to do anything to fix things up. I even asked my students to text her and tell her how sorry I am.

But she didn’t accept my apology. It was just jealousy but it destroyed 3 years of jovial memories. It hurt enough to hear from her, that our relationship has come to an end. I was flooded with endless regrets, knowing that Gwend has always been my object of affection. I’ve witnessed the most meaningful transitions of her life like the death of her beloved grandparents, her debut party where I envisioned her as a lovely princess, her capping ceremony, where I saw her as a lovely maiden, and her pinning ceremony where, I saw her as lovely nurse and her graduation day, where I envisioned her as my wife…..

My body craves for her, my mind wants her back, and a feeling of complete desperation kicks in. I am lost to the confusion of the universe, and I’m easily caught off-guard. I’ve wanted to shot all the couples I see. My anger was taped to the women whose arms are like snakes entwined around their men.

At this point, I may try to get our love back, trying to convince her that things have changed and I want another chance. The sad fact of the matter is that by this point, it’s already too late.

I am Naz, and this is my love story.


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