Monday, August 6, 2012

The Lighthouse


Back in first year of college, I usually sat in the 3rd row from the front of the lecture hall. There was this boy who takes 2 steps at a time down to the front and always sits on the 2nd row. In fact, I never needed to check where the lecture was held; I just needed to see where he was sitting to know. He was like the lighthouse that I navigated by.

As years went by, I moved further and further away from the front rows that by the third year of my course, I always sat at the back. There were some subjects (totally unrelated to my course) that came naturally to me. Then, there were others (related to my course) that despite all my efforts, always appeared to be a cryptic code that I could never decipher.

That boy who sat in the 2nd row? Well, we had a ‘falling-out’ somewhere in second year, simply because he wouldn’t borrow me his homework to copy. What a scrooge?! I thought to myself that if he ever needed my notes or homework, I would definitely not lend it to him. But of course, that day would never come since I never took notes or do my homework before the eleventh hour.

Somewhere in my third year, I shared more classes with this ‘boy’ and I got to know that he wasn’t a scrooge, he just had his principles (albeit weird ones). I also got to know that we shared nothing in common. Absolutely nothing! We happened to take Spanish lessons, to which he drove me to. In return of the favour, he tortured me awake in the wee hours of the morning to play tennis (if that’s what you call it when one person throws the ball and the other misses - to my defence, I was sleepy!) and when that failed, he threw pebbles at my window to wake me from my afternoon nap to go jogging (very slowly). Finally, he resorted to teaching me the guitar (or trying to anyway).

We fought about everything. The radio station, fashion, how we chose to complete our homework and etcetera, etcetera…but we spoke a lot too, about our families, ideas on a relationship, views on a random topic…

I wasn’t going to fall for him. At least, I did not intend to, until he asked me out for a concert, pushed a random guy who came to close and gently flicked away a strand of hair falling over my face with his fingers.

One week later, he proposed.

It’s nearly four years now. We still argue about everything. We still talk about everything. A steady light that has guided me through all my rough patches in life and shared my happy moments, he is still and always will be the lighthouse that I navigate by.