A Letter to an Oblivious

It’s hard when you’re in love with an Oblivious. No matter how much you try to make that special someone notice you and how much you like that person, nothing comes out of your efforts.

Take yourself for an example. Yes, you—you, the one who’s holding this paper since recess, when I handed a folded piece of notebook paper to you. I know you’re not going to read this until later today, thinking that what’s inside is just some sort of prank or joke coming from me, something that isn’t really worth opening the second I gave it to you.

But you’re wrong. This letter contains more than a joke; it contains more than a prank. It’s kind of like a bomb, actually, when you take things into consideration.

See…I just told you you’re an Oblivious. If you don’t know what that is, refer to the first paragraph. Go on, read the first paragraph again.

Now, do you understand?

I guess this will take more time than the usual. After all, you’re not a very ordinary Oblivious, aren’t you? Well, let me take it slowly, then. I’m a nice guy, after all, so I’m very patient when it comes to Oblivious cases like yours.

Let’s start with the word:

oblivious [uhbliv-ee-uh s] adj. unmindful; unconscious; unaware

…now here’s my word:

Oblivious [uhbliv-ee-uh s] noun. An unmindful, unconscious, and unaware person.

Do you see what I mean now? Go on, take your time.

Yes. You are an Oblivious. You seem surprised. I know by now you’re almost to the point of laughing. You think this is some stupid joke, right? Sorry, it isn’t.

See, that’s the thing with the Oblivious species. They’re in denial even when the fact hits them straight in the face. This isn’t even the first time that I hinted about this to you. Heck, I’ve been giving you signs since day one, but I guess you really are an Oblivious, so you can’t really know. I try not to get frustrated with you since I know the fact that you’re unaware isn’t entirely your fault—I mean, that’s how God made you, why should I complain, right? One should never question the way God thinks.

Now I’m sure you want to know what these hints are and you want me to enumerate each and every one to you. Alright, here’s some:

  1. That chocolate drink I gave you when you needed a drink but didn’t have the time to go to the cafeteria since you still needed to copy your best friend’s homework, in fear of our Math teacher’s wrath when he finds out you didn’t do your homework.
  2. The time when you were caught by the principal with litter all around you and you didn’t pick even just one to throw in its rightful place: the bin—I rescued you and told the Evil Principal that I was the one doing all the littering so all her anger would then transfer to myself and forget your silly mistake.
  3. When our class project during the school fair resulted in some lost profit, almost resulting to everyone else putting you in blame since you’re the treasurer, I handed in my own allowance just so the discrepancy wouldn’t be so much trouble for you.
  4. I always treat you out on free ice creams whenever we go home together.
  5. …and we always go home together, seeing as we live no more than four houses apart.
  6. Whenever you have so much heavy stuff to bring home, I’d carry them all for you even when I myself have so much heavier stuff to bring home. I’d even lie and say, no, of course it’s not heavy! even when my back feels like it’s going to break—just to save you from having your back from breaking.
  7. That time it was raining and you needed to go home early, I skipped basketball practice to go home with you just so you wouldn’t get wet.
  8. …and the many other times I skipped practice just so you wouldn’t go home alone.
  9. The many times I’d become your family’s official errand boy whenever your brother wasn’t around, and how I could never ever say no to your parents.
  10. Back during junior prom, I asked you instead of asking the pretty girl who everyone said had a huge crush on me.
  11. You are the only girl I ever gave a Valentine rose to.

I could go on and on and on and take up as much as two reams of paper and it still wouldn’t be enough to cover the hundreds of thousands of hints I’ve been dropping on you. I don’t know, maybe you’re the Queen of the Oblivious…es? How do you even make the plural out of that word, I wonder?

So here’s it is: a letter to an Oblivious. This is the last thing I could think of to let you know what has always been obvious to all the people around us. I’ve always been shy and I don’t shout things like this out for the whole world to hear, so I hope this letter will suffice in letting you in on the secret that everyone knows.





















You still don’t get it, do you?












It couldn’t be helped then.




Here’s one last chance for you to guess. If you still haven’t found out by the end of this letter, guess I’ll just have to tell you out loud when we go home together so your Oblivious self would find out.




Your last hint:








What’s the thing I gave you inside this letter?

I just told you it’s not a joke. It isn’t a prank, either.

It’s a five-letter word. It starts with the letter H.








Still can’t guess it?



Fine. I don’t have any choice then, so I’ll just tell you the answer. Once you read the answer, there’s no turning back. If you still don’t understand by the end of this letter, then it’s either you don’t know the word (which would be ridiculous) or you’re the densest, most unaware Oblivious there is.
















Ready?











Psst.






I just gave you my heart.


-Wrote this today while thinking of a cute yet dorky way a guy could confess to a girl that he likes her. I had lots of fun writing this one; I was just typing on and on and on nonstop and it was fun.

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