Tag Archives: crush

Starbucks Boy

I love the way you smile. You have the most divine laugh in the entire world. The sight of you makes me shake. I feel a rushing feeling of nervousness flowing through my veins. That one time that you smiled at me, I almost panicked to the point of almost fainting. You are so sweet. Sweet as the almond hibiscus that you always order in Starbucks—the one place that I’m free to see you without pretending to be sitting in your class or bumping just right into you. I love your scent. It’s the sweet scent of chamomile with subtle yet enticing hints of cinnamon. I remember this one time when I saw you walking past my house. You were with somebody—a close friend of mine. You seemed so sweet and cute together. At that same instant, my heart was broken. It was totally devastated. I kept thinking that I lost the one person that I (thought) love—or loved. But then I suddenly realized that you were never mine. I was never yours, and at that very same moment, I had the painful realization that I will never be yours and you will never be mine. Days and weeks passed as I tried to forget everything about you. I even started going to Starbucks at night just so we would never meet. I avoided the places where I usually see you. I changed every single bit of my routine that involved you. No more TechnoHub, no more Republiq, no more social life. I became antisocial. Not seeing anyone became my coping mechanism. Three years have passed since then. Thinking back, I just want to laugh at how foolish I was—or still am. Oh, Starbucks boy, how foolish you’ve made me once.