There was a time in my life when I wasn't sure about the teenage boy that I was, or what kind of adult man that I would become. I wasn't sure about where my life was going, or what my emotions were telling me to do. I'm writing to you today, after all of these years, because I feel that I owe you a few explanations about my insensitive actions from a few years ago; I feel that I owe you a few apologies.

I was just about to turn eighteen-years-old when you and I took our friendship to the "relationship" level. A few months earlier, I was just coming off of the two-year relationship that I had with Wanda. Although I cared dearly for Wanda, I felt that my relationship with her was not what I had imagined a "real" relationship should be. Because I was almost eighteen, I thought that I was a man. I thought that I would leave behind these childish ideas about what a relationship should be. I had these ridiculous ideas in my head about how an "adult" relationship should be. With Wanda, I thought that I had a childish relationship. I didn't like the fact that she never let me meet her family ... her aunt and uncle, her brother and cousins. I didn't like the fact that she never let me visit her home, that she had to sneak out of the house to meet me up the street. I wanted a relationship where I would be welcome into the home. I wanted a relationship where I wouldn't have to sneak around, thinking that I was doing something wrong. I wanted a relationship in which she acknowledged to her family that I was her boyfriend. Because of my age, I thought that this was the way that my "mature" relationships should be. I thought that I could control how my relationships would turn out. I thought that I could control who I would fall in love with. I was wrong. By thinking this way, I thought that I was being a man. I really was just being a little boy.

Do you remember that night when you were at my house? You had told your parents that you were at work. My entire family was off on vacation, and I was home alone. We were sitting on my couch, watching some strange Kung-fu movie on cable TV. I kissed you for the first time. I remember thinking that you would be the one; you'd be everything that Wanda wasn't. I would be able to visit you at your home. I'd be able to go there to just "hang out." I'd be invited to your family parties. I'd hang out with your little brothers; they'd grow up knowing me. I'd sit and have dinner with your mom and dad; maybe I could kick around the mah jong tiles with your mom. It was everything I wanted. It was everything that I had imagined a relationship should be. You were already a good friend to me all the years before this night. It felt so right. I held you and told you that "I really, really, liked you." After Wanda, I told myself that I would never tell another girl that I loved her, unless I really meant it. After this night and the later weeks, I never ever told you that I loved you. This must be one of the biggest ironies in my life. I've told this to so many girls before and after, but I never told you ... the one person that I know for sure that I truly loved. I did love you.

Do you remember on that same night when we were holding each other? It was already around 1 am, and there was a pounding knock on my front door. It was your cousin, mom, dad, uncle, and aunt. They came out looking for you and were very upset that you were at my house that late ... alone. I remember thinking that your dad could probably kill me, hide my body in the backyard, and my parents wouldn't find it until they got back from vacation a week later. It was like one of those corny filipino movies. At that moment, everything I was dreaming about earlier came crashing down. I wouldn't be able to have that "adult" relationship that I so desperately wanted. I wouldn't be welcome into your house. I wouldn't be able to talk guy talk with your dad. I wouldn't be able to play mah jong with your mom. I wouldn't be able to pick your brothers up from school. I wouldn't be able to be their "big brother." Nothing.

I began to resent it. I began to resent you. I wanted to blame someone. I was so wrong. I was naive and arrogant. I thought that I could control who I could love, who could love me back. I know now that love doesn't work that way. I've learned to take it as it comes. Back then, I was too immature. I wish I could have told you all of these things then. At the time, I was never good at explaining my feelings. Instead of talking about what I was thinking, or what I was feeling, I would close myself off. I would ignore the problem and the problem would go away. I ignored you. I stopped calling you. I stopped talking to you. I started talking to other girls as if I had stopped thinking about you. I started pushing you farther and farther away. I am so sorry. It literally is the biggest regret in my life. It literally is the biggest mistake in my life. I wish I could do it all over again differently. I am so sorry for the pain and sadness that I caused. I am so sorry for being too much of a coward to tell you how I was feeling. I was a coward.

I wish that I could see you in person, fall on my sword, and beg for your forgiveness. I often wonder what our lives would be like had I not been such a coward. I wish things were different. I've long since put these feelings away in my heart, and I'm hoping that this letter will finally bring closure to this chapter of our lives. I still keep your photograph hidden in my wallet as a reminder to me. It reminds me of love lost. It reminds me of irresponsible actions. It reminds me to express and communicate my feelings. It reminds me to cherish love. It reminds me of you.

Your old friend,