Philophobic
My name is Katherina Valentino, 16 years old, born on October 18, currently living with my Aunt Elizabeth. My parents are divorced and since they both knew that neither of them would have the time to take care of me, they handed me over to my Aunt. We live in an island in the tropics; however, though we're far from the mainland, we're still very acquainted with the growing technology and there has not been a single case of scarcity on anything.
If you would ask my friends on how they'll describe me, they would probably say: "Towering at 5'6, blood red hair that fluidly rested on her shoulders, natural scarlet lips, bright blue eyes that stood out due to her hair, a small flat nose, caramel skin, and her statuesque body made her the epitome of a model"
Nevertheless, though my physical attributes bore nothing but unique beauty and the appearance of pure confidence beaming in me, I'm still an introvert. I would rather be in the shadows then the one that casts it. But, why hide my beauty? It's because of my so-called looks that made a boy fall in love with me. "So what?" you may ask. This boy triggered an unusual phobia within me.
It all started last year, 1st year of high school. South Harbour International School for girls planned to make a boy-girl interaction between our brother schools, North Harbour International. Like any normal female, we tittered in excitement until the fated day has arrived.
Thomas Frank, my assigned partner, had messy blonde hair with ash highlights. Standing a couple inches taller than me; quite caught my eye. We talked about our preferences and found ourselves to be each other's type. After this auspicious meeting, we started to hangout after school, during weekends until; we finally started to be exclusive.
2 weeks into our mutual relationship, we finally had our first kiss. It happened in the Rose garden of our towns Botanical estates, under the setting sun and orange turning mauve sky. There was not a single doubt in my mind, I loved him. I loved him so much, I told him. He didn't reply to me as I hoped, nothing but a bewildered expression plastered on his face. His following words stabbed my chest, every syllable pierced and dug until it went all the way through. As he left me speechless under the most beautiful full moon that our town has set eyes on, my eyes were filled with nothing but pure liquid crystals of pain and resentment.
A month has passed from that unfortunate episode of my life. Everyone had started to let go of the rumor of our break up. They also noticed that I wasn't giving off that effervescent glow I give every day. My confidence dropped, I lost my calm around boys and as much as possible, I would avoid any boy who would admit their feelings towards me. It grew worse every day, that even I would avoid my male teachers. My aunt Elizabeth had decided to bring me to a therapist and after a couple tests, I was diagnosed with Philophobia.
Philophobia is the fear of falling in love or being in love. My guess is… I gave almost all of my love to Frank that I'm scared I might never love again. I still wish to have a family and kids; I still wish to live with them in our own country home that we bought using our own money we worked hard on. The only problem is… how can I have a family, if I'm afraid to love?
I guess I'll live alone, work alone, and be forever alone. I shouldn't waste my time hoping this phobia would magically disappear with a wish on a shooting star, countless prayers, crossed fingers, and innumerable vexes people come up with these days. I can hope. Although I know, it would be impossible.