To all the boys I loved before - The Medtech

To All the Boys I've Loved Before:

Frances, the Medtech from UK -

Jealousy started following me. 

 

The sting of heartbreak still lingered, a dull ache in my chest. Marvin, my first love, had shattered my heart like a cheap glass ornament. But amidst the wreckage, a glimmer of hope emerged. It came in the form of a Yahoo messenger chat with a guy named Frances, a Half-Pinoy from London, UK. His username was Rhofritz@yahoo.com, and he was 23, a medtech working in a hospital.

 

He had a certain charm, a resemblance to my favorite actor, John Cusack, but with an Asian twist. Our conversations flowed easily, filled with playful banter and shared jokes. I was drawn to his wit and his confidence, especially when he described his "huge tool" and how impressed his dad was when he saw him playing with himself. I was still a minor, 15 or 16 at the time, so I guess he didn't have the courage to show it to me, or maybe he was just teasing.

 

I had a knack for making guys laugh, and Frances was no exception. Every conversation we had was a riot. He even asked for my phone number, promising to call if I couldn't chat online. But being a high school student with no computer and limited access to internet cafes, consistent communication was a challenge. Poverty, as it often does, threw a wrench in my budding romance.

 

The decline of our connection started with a video chat. As Frances turned on his camera, I saw him with another Filipino guy in his bedroom. This "friend" looked like a rich kid, around 28, with a resemblance to the actor Rico Yan. This friend is from the Philippines and he visited him in the UK. Frances introduced me as his "special friend," and we exchanged awkward pleasantries.

 

The moment I saw that other guy, a wave of jealousy washed over me. It was a feeling I hadn't experienced before, a sharp, stinging pain that twisted my stomach. Was this "friend" a rival for Frances's affections? Was he the reason Frances never called? The questions swirled in my head, fueled by the insecurities of a teenager who had never been in a real relationship.

The night he said goodbye and turned off his video camera, it felt like a knife had been plunged into my heart. The sting of jealousy cut deep, and I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal that lingered in the air. I pitied myself for being born into poverty, for not having the means to bridge the gap between us. Something shifted that night, a fracture in our connection that widened with each passing day.

 

I felt a pang of betrayal. Frances had never mentioned this other guy, and now I felt like a fool, a naive boy who had fallen for a charmer who wasn't truly available. My heart sank. It wasn't just the jealousy, it was the feeling of being replaced, of being an afterthought.

 

From that point on, our conversations became strained. The playful banter was replaced by awkward silences. I couldn't shake the image of that other guy, his presence a constant reminder of my own inadequacy.

 

The truth is, I was young and inexperienced. I didn't know how to handle jealousy, how to navigate the complexities of a long-distance relationship, especially one that seemed to be shrouded in secrecy. Frances, on the other hand, was older, more experienced, and perhaps more adept at playing the field.

 

The whole situation left me feeling confused and hurt. I was left wondering if our connection was ever real, or if it was just a fleeting fantasy fueled by my own longing for love. 

 

I was mad at him, furious at the way he had unknowingly wounded my youthful heart. Our relationship, once filled with laughter and joy, turned bland and flavorless. The spark that had ignited our conversations had dimmed, replaced by a sense of unease and disappointment. I no longer felt infatuation, but rather a simmering resentment that bubbled beneath the surface.

 

I began to distance myself, avoiding him whenever he was online. I couldn't find the courage to confront him about my feelings of jealousy, about the hurt that had festered in my heart. I was young and naive, unaware of the complexities of emotions like jealousy and insecurity.

 

Two months passed, and just when I thought our connection had faded into the background, I received a call. It was him, his voice filling my ears for the first time. Butterflies danced in my stomach, and I couldn't contain my giggles, like a schoolgirl with a crush. But as he spoke in UK English with a British accent, my shame bubbled to the surface.

 

I struggled to communicate in English, stumbling over my words and feeling the weight of my inadequacy press down on me. The anxiety clawed at my chest, suffocating me with its intensity. In a moment of panic, I ended the conversation abruptly, unable to admit my limitations. The disappointment in his voice was palpable, a silent acknowledgment of the gap that separated us.

 

From that day on, our conversations grew sparse, filled with awkward silences and unspoken truths. I could sense the distance growing between us, a chasm widening with each missed opportunity to bridge the gap. The sadness in his voice echoed in my ears, a reminder of the connection we had lost.

 

I blamed myself for not being able to communicate effectively, for letting my insecurities sabotage what could have been. The regret weighed heavy on my heart, a burden I carried with me long after our conversations had ceased. I had let my fear and shame dictate the course of our relationship, and now I was left with the bitter taste of what could have been.

 

As time passed, the memory of Frances, the medtech from the UK, faded into the background, a bittersweet reminder of a connection lost to miscommunication and unspoken truths. And as I reflect on that chapter of my life, I realize the importance of honesty, vulnerability, and the courage to confront our insecurities head-on.

 

And as I reflect on that experience, I realize that jealousy, like a venomous snake, can quickly turn a budding romance into a toxic mess. It can cloud judgment, distort perceptions, and ultimately destroy the very thing it seeks to protect.

Frances, the medtech from UK, became just another name on the list of boys I've loved before, a reminder that even the most promising connections can fade, leaving behind only the bitter taste of unrequited feelings.

But perhaps, in the end, it was a lesson learned. A lesson about the fragility of love, the complexities of relationships, and the importance of recognizing red flags before they become insurmountable obstacles.

This is Sam from Cavite and I thank you with a resounding Eeeyyy 🤙 

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