I am not your biggest fan out there. I have probably missed half of my life because I have not followed you play with magic in the series Wizards of Waverly Place; I missed your movies too (I couldn’t proudly invite my buddies to watch Princess Protection Program or Monte Carlo because they appear to be for sissies).
But I never stopped adoring your ever since I heard you sing Love You Like A Love Song, Who Says, and Naturally countless times in YouTube, in Joan Mae Soco’s ringtone, and in the jeepney’s radio.
I guess finally having your album in my iPod further caused my interest to pique. And for reasons unknown to mankind, your songs have never stopped playing in my head. To state it simply (albeit, unoriginally), I have learned to love you like a love song. And, yes, I keep hitting the repeat button.
Why can’t I find you and your songs in karaoke bars, Selena?
This makes it so hard for me to profess my love for you in front of my friends who get so frisky and excited about killing time in K1 Family KTV. Or, if we’re feeling cheap (as we always do), in Cats and Dogs.
I would give anything just to sing Middle of Nowhere and Hit the Lights with impunity. I am, after all, a concert king in my own right (and in my own bathroom).
You’re a gift to humanity, Selena.
If it weren’t for your songs that bravely sing out the torrent of emotions in people’s hearts, the world would probably start crumbling by now.
I dreamt about you once. I don’t remember much, but I was pretty sure I held both your hands and looked you in the eye. That moment felt beautiful, as if I were in love with you. I normally don’t feel that with girls. But you shied away.
Your eyes told me that we can’t be together; that you are still dealing with a current terror that is Justin Bieber. Ugh.
I think it’s unfair that you walked away. I really thought that you would never leave me by myself…out in the middle of nowhere. Now I am lost, trying to make it on my own.
I woke up and imagined myself having tears. You felt so real in front of me. I feel sad that I never touched your face, or brushed your hair–even in my dreams.
The only shard of reality that I have of you is your music in my device. I hope to find you someday; maybe bump into you while I’m backpacking in Europe. By then I swear that I will not let go of you–even when the authorities start to cuff me.
For now I will soak up in your music. It is the only thing that is keeping me alive as a young man, desperately chasing a normal life, while dreaming of a girl he saw in YouTube.