I once loved a boy nicknamed "Big-head Chen," for his head is bigger than most of us surrounding him. People said those who have big head as a sign of intelligence. Thinking back, I had loved him for three years though I never told him. The year of 1986, one year after the Tienman Square Masaccre and the serious accidnet happened to me, I was transferred to a new school where I expected to have a new life and was expected to be as "good" a child as possible.
Big-head was there, noted as the most intelligent mind in class. He was a tutor in math, a leading student who is usually ahead of the class in math assigned by the math teacher to assist the teacher's teaching with those who are later-catcher in math.
My new homeroom teacher assigned me to sit behind him and asked him to take good care of me. Lucky as I was, with Big-head's help, after a few days, I became pretty comfortable with the new environment and started the new school life. When the whole class and all teachers got familiar with me, they used to laugh at him for being extra nice to me, but he defended for himself, explaining to everyone that he was only doing what the teachers asked him to do and helping his best friend Howl, who claimed me to be his object of pursuit. People regarded Big-head my private tutor that was assigned to me by the teachers. From then on, I felt somehow attached to him.
Before the third year came to an end in junior high, I tried to gather up my courage and tell him how I felt about him, and yet, I gave up and quitted the thought of making confession to him owing to one incident. Rumor said Big-head adored the girl named Jade in the class.
The night I heard this news, I cried myself to sleep. And soon after the big joint exam for high school entrance, after I knew that Big-head passed the exam and got enrolled into the best high school downtown, I was sent away.
Four years after that, I spent some time in States then back and finished the rest years in high school without any contact with Big-head. During my freshman year, somehow, serendipity brought us together. I forgot how we came across to each other, either he found me or I found him in another city, long away from home in the north. He was then a sophomore, tall and stout with the huge head as ever. We had a great time being with each other for a couple of months, spending time strolling around, seeing around and were closer than ever as good friends and supportive companions. I was then glad of finding an old friend and rediscovering a new friend. What had changed for me was my romantic affection towards him had ceased; I then befriended with Big-head with genuine affection as a buddy; whereas for him, feelings were now revered as I was told later.
There was one night, we were sitting at a river bank, playing truth-dare. I was stunned and decided to conceal the real answer question of who was the object of my affection. In stead of telling him that he used to be the one for me, back in high school, I told him that I had a major crush on someone named Chong in the next class, and that was not exactly a lie because I was attracted to the guy one way or another. So there I was, holding back the truth as a result of a keen sense of wanting to win. I've always wanted to win, wanted to hide what I'd really thought so as to let others be frank to me before I do the same. Cunningly enough, I wish that he would wear his heart on the sleeve and open up with me. And he did be honest and confirm with me that the rumor back in junior high was ture: He did like the girl named Jade.
"It wasn't like a crush on her, " he said, "just pure admiration."
When it came to be my turn, I posted my question, "So, do you have any object of admiration or affection at this moment?"
There was a long silence. Though it was in the dark, I seemed to see him blushing and felt his hesitation of telling.
"There is one, but she is not told yet." said he.
"Are you trying to? Or you're going to remain a secret admirer?" I asked.
A long pause before he opened his mouth again.
"What if I told you that you 'maybe' the one that is on my mind right all this time?"
Then it was my turn of hesitation. It wasn't that I didn't like him; it was just that I was pretty comfortable with our relationship as goo fellow friends that back each other up whatever happened.
The shocking confession made me dizzy and speechless for some time before I regained my calmness, my usual self, and broke the ice.
"Well, it can't be. It's been so many years that we were friends, then there came a long time when we lost connection with each other. It has been merely a couple of months that we reencountered. Perhaps what you felt was solely an infatuation wich is temporary."
Thanks to his laughter after the silence that followed my presumption, I was saved for the moment.
"Damned, I don't know what got into my head. It must be that, like you said. Hope I didn't ruin our friendship." I could sense that he tried to convey his embarrassment and disppointment.
That night I stayed in his place, wrapping myself in a thick quilt, and laid myself on the floor, despite his suggestion of leaving me the bed for the night.
I had to be honest, by then, there was a fraught, a leak, an unmendable gap that was cracking up inbetween he and I.