Hey people. I just read the ‘drabbles’ by Dernier Cri, Casa Bonita Rocks my Socks, and Honour Society, and I think they’re pretty good. They are really good writers. They actually inspired me to try writing a drabble, too. So I dedicate this to them.

This will be my first.

‘Flummoxed’

By mochafrap

“I love you.” For many, it is a well-regarded statement told only to the significant people in one’s life. For the growing number of modern-day happy-go-lucky social butterflies, it is more of an expression told to practically anyone who they see everyday.

The second definition constantly results to confusion and deceptive expectations. After all, in your insides, you still hope to be told such words. You still hope to be taken seriously.

You have been ‘hanging out’ with this guy for months now. Your tête-à-têtes have now flourished from trivial to profound, and innocent flirtations have peppered your so-called friendship. You have been talking to each other on a daily basis now—in secret. Fortunately for you private twosome, the gossip that you are an item has never circulated the grapevines—yet.

And, of course, you use the three magical words to conclude every conversation. No, the usage of such magic words is not limited to every end of the conversation only. In fact, you suddenly realize that you say ‘I love you’ to each other out of the blue—when shifting from one topic to another, when he apologized for not being able to accompany you this one time after school, when he expressed his sympathy when your dog Bean got sick, when you talked about your future plans, when you tried calming him down since he’s too happy having gotten the much-coveted The Strokes concert tickets, when you’re talking about how the world is iniquitous to left-handed people, when he finished singing Only Hope after you insisted (even if his singing voice is ear-sore), when you sneezed… Quite a lot of times already, actually.

Such words have been uttered time and again that hearing those does not mean anything to you two anymore. It’s almost the same as saying ‘good morning’ or ‘have a good day.’

No. You know… Deep inside of you, you still wish that those words are real. You occasionally think that it would be better if you just stop exchanging those three words if it’s not going to be unfeigned anyway.

The truth is, hearing those words makes you expect—expect for something that will never come anyway. Such foolish notions those words form in your mind! No one living or dead knows of your “hope.”

“Massie?” he asked, ensuring that you are still listening.

“I’m still here,” you said, trying to wipe away all those thoughts scattered in your mind. Nevertheless, such thoughts do not go away—they just fade, and soon enough, it will burgeon again. “Oh, no. In fact, I think I actually have to go. Geometry homework.” It’s nice hearing his voice. Then again, it just adds up to those expectations. As far as you know, you’re denying the expectations. You deliberately dismiss those thoughts, hoping they’d just go away.

Apparently, not. Dismissing it makes you expect more.

“Yeah. I have to go do my homework,” you say again, as if convincing yourself that you’re doing the right thing. How is that even right? I don’t know. Anyway, what a pathetic excuse! “Bye. I love you.”

“Wait!” You stop at his declaration. This is one of the most exhilarating feelings—the instance between fantasy in the form of expectations and reality in the form of the truth. He can say anything right now. He could say he’s gay. He could say he already has a girlfriend. He could say, “Can you hook me up with Claire?” He could say, “I’m just a bridge. I’m actually trying to hook you up with my friend Derrick.” He could say he wanted to borrow your Paramore CDs.

It can be anything. You breathed in.

“I just realized this now: the love that I was giving you is not the same as what you’re giving to me. It’s not the same as what I really want to give you. I’m sorry. This is not the same as before: I love you.”

There. He said it. Finally, your questions are answered. He does like like you. He does feel something for you—something more than friendship. Your expectations will bear fruit after all! You are not hoping for nothing.

There it is—the chance that your love that you hid from him so dearly will at last be reciprocated! Say it: I love you, too!!!

“Cam, what are you talking about?” you hear yourself say, once and again, dismissing and denying something you’ve been waiting for a long, long time. Chicken.

“Um… never mind. Bye. I love you.”

And those last words… aren’t the same as what they were a few seconds ago.

A/N: So? What do you think? Do you love it?