There are certainly countless unexplainable, unfathomable ways to love someone. There is love for family, love for friends, love for neighbor and, of course, there is  romance. Romance, as cheesy and as cliche as it sounds, surely has its fair share in everybody’s life. We see it everyday - from the innocent admiration of one child to another to the pure loyalty and trust of one wife to her husband that has been tested through time. There is open love: the love that chooses not to hide itself, but to be known by everyone else. The love a proud man proclaiming to the world how he felt about his girl. The love of a widower for her dead husband whom she visits everyday. There is also what we call a silent love: the love that chooses to be felt, but not seen. It is the love of a silent admirer from afar. It is the love of a girl who smiles at her classmate encouragingly every time he needs it. And then there’s the subtle love: the love that is heard, the love that is seen, the love that is felt, but still goes unnoticed. It is the quieted love of one friend to another. It is where one is oblivious, and the other is she.

She knew, from the moment that she met him, she hated him. She hated his guts. She hated that he was too proud. She hated his obliviousness. She hated the way he walked into a room full of people, but still look like he was the only person present. She hated when he cared not of whoever he stepped on on his way or the times he shunned other people all because he felt like it.

He was selfish. He was a bastard. He was unquestionable most of the time and yet… there was always something in the way he talked about what he thought of things. There was always something in his eyes that glowed whenever he talked about issues, theories, people - it was as if he invited everyone else into listening to whatever he had to say. And he did. A few would question him, but he would answer and his answer would always be enough. There was also something in the way he approached no one, but waited for someone to approach him. He never asked for help, not when he needed it most. Never, even though he wallowed in self-pity afterwards, but never once showed that side of him to anyone.

She was intrigued. Everything about him contradicted him, too. He didn’t believe in destiny, but he believed that there was someone destined for another. On the outside, he looked strong, but on the inside he was lonely. He wanted to be understood, but he never did once allow anyone to understand. He smiled and laughed with the people he hated and he gloated about his accomplishments but refused to share them.

Oh, but she was contradictory, too, because she had told herself countless times that she would forget about herfeelingsfor him and start living a little. She cut herself from him. She refused to talk to him. She refused to look into his glassy eyes, but alas! One word from him and she’d turn his way. One look towards him and she’d thank God he was there. Because no matter how different they were and how different they felt about each other, she was thankful. She was thankful for him.

He certainly confused her in many ways. One minute he’d be kind to her. Ask her how she was. Break the awkward silences between them, and then the next he’d shut her out. He’d look away. He’d stop answering. It was, in those moments, she would ask herself if he actually felt the same way she felt about him. Likely not, she’d convince herself. But somewhere deep down she knew. She knew that shehopedthat that part of her was right.

Although, the most painful part loving subtly was the fact that there were only two ways out. One was to forget said feelings and carry on as if nothing ever happened. But who’s to say that she wouldn’t fall all over again? Who’s to say that the cycle would start anew? The other way out was equally as hard. It was because she needed to tell him how she felt risking everything they’ve had. Risking their trust. Risking their bonds. Risking their friendship.

And so she knew that she would continue on loving him like this. If not forever, then long enough. Because either way, she’d lose him. And she knew she couldn’t lose him because he needed her.

Oh, who are you fooling?

You need him, too.

Ah, yes. It was a complicated thing, what she had for him. But she was proud, too, so she never did tell anyone. Well, she did, but she refused to talk about it anymore.

Complicated, they were.

After all, she was Elizabeth and she was Darcy.

With them, nothing was ever simple.

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Akoy Sayo Ikay Akin Lamang - Daniel Padilla