Volume Six: A Girl, A Boy, And A Fantasy First Date
Get out of your stupid, realistic world for a second.
Remove the overloaded stress from any entity of our all-too risky, you-get-what-you-deserve-or-not-deserve world.
Right now, I want you to stop whatever you’re doing - and dream.
Here you are, sleepy as a daisy. You just had the worst nightmare - preventing you from getting the ‘appropriate’ eight-hour sleep. You wake up, realizing that your alarm had just went off. Like a robot programmed to do nothing but mundane things, you brush your teeth, take a bath, dress up, and off to your part-time job, which happens to be a cozy yogurt shop.
And then it happens.
As you stand in front of the all-too-familiar cash register, you think of a boy - a pretty boy, filled with roses and ponies, all the crap you try to fantasize him with. Personally I prefer if he had money, smarts, looks and talent - but hell, that’s like asking for the world and beyond.
(Alright, let’s get back to our story.)
As you stand there waiting for the first customers, you wonder one thing.
"I wonder, where he is?"
He isn’t a co-worker, nor is he included in your contact list. He isn’t someone you get to talk to everyday, neither is he someone you can see all the time.
But it just had to be him, you know.
You don’t see him every day, but every chance you get to do - you feel like you’ve done a million great things in your past life that God had decided to shower you with this opportunity. He isn’t in your contact list, but he sure is someone you wish could have been in it. And when you get that rare chance to talk, you feel like Ninja, who could show a facade of a straight face, but could actually be melting on the inside.
Well, that girl is me.
The boy I have in mind is someone who works part-time near the area where I, coincidentally, work at. I met him through a friend, and when that friend had left, I assumed that he had no more reason to come by.
But wait. You see, miracles do exist.
Because at that moment, as I stand lethargically in front of the cash register waiting for a much-anticipated customer, I see him instead.
You know what I did? You guessed right.
I pretended that I was Ninja. I grabbed the nearest cloth, started cleaning the counter in front of me, and pretended that he was nobody in particular. (Oh men, just how good can us girl be.)
As he finished making his yogurt, he came to me to pay for his purchase. I smiled at him, the way a distant acquaintance would to another. And as any polite employee, I tried to make small talk.
"Long time no see!" I exclaimed, "how are you?"
(It had been weeks since I last saw him, and I was dying inside to know what had happened, but it isn’t that easy to ask, is it?)
"Oh yeah!" he replied, smiling, "that’s true. So how’s work?"
(It wasn’t the answer I was hoping for, but it sure is better than nothing. I knew he was only being polite, but hey, I’m a girl - and any words exchanged between my crush and myself is a dream.)
"Same, same," I replied as I busy my hand counting his change, "nothing really happens."
At this point, my friends, is when the crucial point happens. Will he ask me out, or will he walk away with a delicious yogurt in his hand? You see, the way things could have happened would be like this:
"Well then," he looked at me, "why don’t we go to the movies together?"
I would nod my head. Not so hard that he would think I’m too excited, but just enough to know I’m interested. And man, was I ever. He would take my number, and he'd tell me the date’s tonight. He would walk away, and my eyes would follow him like bees in line for honey. I would stare at the back of the boy I like very much, and smile.
We’d have a nice time, he would drive me home, and I would kiss him goodnight. Then, maybe he’ll pop by again the next day, and surely enough we’d start dating. And then… bla… bla... bla.
That would have been nice, wouldn’t it? But that just corresponded to at least 90% of high school teen dramas created in the world. But this is reality.
The boy said his thanks, smiled politely, and walked away. I did stare at the back of the boy I like very much, but then I realize - ‘just how much do I know about this boy that made me like him so much?’
His face? His polite way of talking? His smile? Maybe the fact that his uniform made him look 90% cooler?
That just corresponded to half of the boys who know what to wear and ways of sweet-talking. He could be one hell of an asshole, I just didn’t know him enough. Or maybe he really is much better than what I imagined - a protective, kind young man who will treat a girl like a Queen.
Whatever the case is, I’ve reached a conclusion. And hell, this was definitely hard to admit.
The truth is, it wasn’t ‘love’ or ‘like’ that I feel towards this boy. It is only, in fact - infatuation.
My desire to have a relationship and my somewhat picky-attitude had forced me to imprint my very emotions on the very next guy I find attractive and appealing. At that moment, the person I found was him. Truth be told, I did see him before I realized that we had a mutual friend. And the first thing that happened when our eyes met - it was that we smiled at each other.
I cannot remember what feelings were being formed then, but I do know something - that very small exchange we have with each other was genuine. Who knows what could happened in the future? Maybe he really did have feeling for me, maybe he wants to say hi, or maybe it really was the yogurt he was after. But one thing’s for certain - My imagination is only limited to my own existence, while reality has the capacity of the universe. I can only imagine us being together at that moment, based on what I have comprehended things could be. Reality, however, associated with two things - fate, and future.
We could be together now as two young adults and spend seven awesome months together, or we could eventually forget about each other now - only to find ourselves in each other’s arms ten years from now, as a loving husband to his wife.
Yeah, yeah. I know the idea of ‘marriage’ is tacky in our age, but sure is nice to know that such possibilities exist, right?