Every story has to start somewhere. Let me go back 12 years in time. I was in 4th year high-school at that time. Screaming on top of my lungs. Busy with assignments, projects, extra curricular activities, making friends, dumping them, all sorts of teenage stuff. ALL that you can think of. I have a lot of friends. But I have a best friend, my confidant. My parents have been eyeing this bestfriend of mine, thinking that we are really more than just friends. I would always roll my eyes and tell them that he is not my type of guy.
What is my type of guy? Someone who's very academically intelligent, "conio", rich, loves cartoons, sci-fi films and a great dancer. I was very young then, all I think about is what my guy and I would do together? What if we fight over what TV program to watch, movie to watch or what to talk about. Blinded by love stories where girl meets a very rich boy who gives her everything, brings her to posh places.
But no.
I had the exact opposite of what I thought I wanted.
I'll tell you more next time. Just hang in there..
