The Story of Us ❤︎

Before this story ever became a love story, Allen and I were simply strangers whose paths had crossed a few times, or more.

At the University where we met, the University of San Agustin, Allen was an Education student majoring in Mathematics. While I, Clarisse, was a Fine Arts student majoring in painting.

Given that, Allen was more of a realist, someone who thought with logic and more maturity than most, probably because he was way older than everyone in his class; someone people relied on—a median. While I was an idealist, someone who craved imagination and fantasy. I was a person who was more connected to her emotions. A rather cliché pairing, if you will.

However, before we move forward with this story, take note that our beginning was not as sweet as people would think. And to be honest, it started more as a one-sided crush than anything else. Well, they all do begin like that. Do they not?

I’d like to start our story on one afternoon in the year 2017 at the University, at a significant place (for me, at least) under the old tree by Rada Hall.

There, Allen sat silently, focusing on his phone while waiting for something or someone. With his usual black hoodie wrapped around his waist, slightly ripped jeans, a neutral-colored shirt, and his signature black beanie, he looked as if he had frozen in time.

I was just passing by when I noticed Allen; how his still figure sat there. The background and people blurred in my memory.

I paused for a moment before moving further, caught by a thought.

"It’s that guy," I uttered as I found myself staring. My curiosity tugged at me.

I have seen Allen before. We had brief encounters in the past, but they were often usual or typical, such as passing by the hallways, sitting at opposite tables, or just walking past each other at random moments of the day.

Allen and I first crossed paths in 2015, during my second-year Philippine History class. He usually sat quietly in the back row, while I was up front, trying to be as attentive and studious as possible. I was never a bright kid, to be honest, but I always tried my best. Studying was hard, and I did not want to fall behind.

I barely noticed Allen then, until one day, our teacher decided to put us in the same group for a class project. We interacted briefly, exchanging just enough words to finish our work. And that was about it.

The second most vivid memory I have of Allen was in 2017, during a CHED meeting at the University. Students from different departments were selected to participate; he and I were among them.

In the meeting, everyone seemed eager to share the positive aspects of the University. However, unlike the rest, Allen stood out. He dared to speak his mind. While everyone praised the school, adding sprinkles of sugar to everything they said, he chose honesty over pleasantries. I remember Allen firmly standing amongst the crowd of students, with a gaze so steady and unfazed; even his voice was earnest and was almost like a melody in my ears.

To be frank, I was easily swooned. Listening to Allen speak, his words and defiance felt like a breath of fresh air. Though a part of me was a bit dumbfounded, I was also surprisingly infatuated, and since then, he caught my eye.

Returning to that day – that day I saw him under the Rada Tree...

While remembering that moment, he spoke during the CHED meeting, something compelled me to break the overdue silence between us. I thought to myself, I want to be friends with this guy.

Maybe it was foolish. Maybe... it would mean nothing to him. But still... I wanted to try.

Taking a steadying breath, I walked over to him in my black and purple punk pants and long-sleeved shirt. If not in my uniform, I always fancied wearing punk or rock-styled clothing, somewhat resembling Avril Lavigne’s look in 2002.

I stood there, doing my best to appear confident; my fingers slightly twitching awkwardly as I tried to brush my long, charcoal hair to the side of my face.

“Hey!” I began, finally finding the courage to speak. I felt a little nervous. I did not want to come across as weird or anything.

“You’re the guy who spoke at that CHED meeting, right?” I continued, “I loved how honest you were.”

I thought my approach might come off as awkward or trying too hard, but to my relief, after a few responses, it shockingly went well.

From that moment on, Allen and I started talking more often, and I was surprised by how naturally our words flowed. And before I knew it, chatting with him was something I always looked forward to. Not sure if it was the same for him, but it was for me.

We talked about anything that came to mind—anime, cartoons, campus gossip. Whenever I took a break from my thesis or Allen was not rushing to class, I would find him under the Rada Tree. We would talk, letting our conversations wander wherever they wanted.

It felt like the start of a good friendship... or at least, that’s what I thought