– Why did you avoid answering my question about the journal?

He stared at her completely still, stiff and stupefied at her unforeseen question. What on freaking earth could’ve reminded her of that, he thought. This was unexpected and he was caught off-guard, with no time to conjure up a lie to save his behind this time, and surely the universe was not at his side, if anything, it probably was smirking smugly at him from afar. Could he really spill the beans right away? He has already crossed the main bridge, any more could end his love trip quickly.

He sighed in resignation and answered in a defeated tone:

– I’m afraid of what you’d think of me should I truthfully answer you. He paused for a second, gathering his thoughts. I’m afraid you’d consider me as a creep. and I couldn’t bring myself to lie to you about it.

– What could you possibly have written that would make me think of you that way? It’s not like you’re some psycho who writes about ways to lure his victims in, have sex with them and then murder them or whatever, are you?

– What? He looked at her incredulous. No, no, of course not. It’s just that…

There was a moment if silence. He was assembling his thoughts, placing them in order so he wouldn’t screw it up but her presence next to him, in the same bed, being both naked, wasn’t helping the least bit. It would’ve been much easier if it was an online conversation but this wasn’t.

All his life, he has been running away from moments like these, hiding what he’s feeling with sarcasm and jokes but he’s finally cornered, way-way out of his comfort zone. Believe it or not, he had never had a face-to-face break up let along a face-to-face a love confession. He was never the one to do the dumping. He has always avoided confrontation and cowardly – and sometimes strategically – hid behind his fear. He wasn’t a fan of conflict and hard feelings that ensued over such crap.

You’d think a guy like him, always praised for being the gentleman, the good guy, the kind, comforting, optimistic, cheerful friend, would be close to flawless. Think again, because he’s not. He’s as damaged as anyone else if not more. He had a flashback at that moment in an old, unpleasant memory… The first time he had ever admitted to being in love with someone face to face. It was behind her high school, at lunchtime. They went out together, a friendly date. 15 minutes before the end of the break, next to a willow tree, he stood there tearing a leaf in his hands, both of them silent until that silent broke off with him in tears confessing his love to her. She smashed his heart in microscopic pieces when, the next day, she turned him down via text, and he hasn’t yet to recover from that trauma. Would you have recovered? This particular moment, years from that unpalatable incident, he has found himself in the same position.

With a gulp and a low shaky tone, trying his best to manage his over-flow of the built-up mix of feelings and trying his best to keep his eyes locked on hers, he said:

– I… I don’t know from where to start. I…

There was another moment of silence. He broke eye contact. It was unbearable for him. He was fighting his tears. He wasn’t about to show her that ugly side of him.

– I guess… Well, I wrote about you in my journal. You know what? I’ll just go get it so you can read it.

He clambered out of bed, put on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt, which she thought that he looked cute in them, leaving her feeling flattered and intrigued yet puzzled and cautious about what his diary may contain and whether it’s as bad as he made it sound.

A few minutes later, he was back, knocking on the door, letting her know that he has retrieved it. He took his place next to her, his hands still clutching the book, filled with second thoughts and hesitancy. He finally handed it to her, but instead of a getting a hold of it, she masked a feint reassuring smile and said:

– I want you to read it for me.

He opened his mouth to protest but decided otherwise. With no further delay, he looked for the page and started reading:

I believe that I found the one. Yes, yes I did. Finally. Oh god… She’s… She’s the definition of amazing. Beautiful, intelligent and all the synonyms of those words combined. I’m still doubtful that she’s even real. A projection of my imagination. But she’s very real, I double checked. Those are her pictures, that’s her talking to me alright. She’s the best thing that ever happened to me so far in my life…

He flipped the page.

Those late night inspirations to write about you come with regret in the next morning, but to hell with regret now. My mind can only think about you. You, you, you and some more of YOU. My limbic system’s reacting to everything associated you, forming emotional triggers for further use. It’s a merry party inside my brain and the theme is YOU. It’s 2 a.m in the morning and I’m wide awake thinking about you. I’m thinking about how your day went since I didn’t have the chance to catch up with you today. What am I feeling for you? I can’t be in love with you. I haven’t even met you in person, yet why do I feel so spellbound by you? Like a moth drawn to a flame. To my imminent demise. My heart’s at least. Why is it me that get to fall for you first? That’s unfair. Why can’t you be the one to fall for me first? For once. As a change. Oh, who am I kidding? Those things don’t happen to me. How I wish I could take a sneak peek inside your brain and get a hold of what you think of and about me. How I wish…

He suddenly froze at that part. Hesitation still eating him out alive. Heart-breaking memories rushed back to him. He remembered his endless and worthless endeavors for initiating and maintaining a proper relationship. His eyes filled with tears but none dared to drop. He was holding himself with God’s might from collapsing. I’m sure if you’ve been traumatized before with endless rejections from the ones you truly desired to be with, and have some self-deprecating and loathing for your whole existence, you’d understand what he’s going through right now and how hard it must be for him to be utterly vulnerable. Delmore grasped his hand at that moment, gave it a gentle squeeze, looked him in the eyes and nodded. All the signs that say It’s okay. I understand what you’re going through but I’m here for you. You don’t see me running away. You can continue, I’m all ears.
And that act of understanding was the comfort and support that he needed to go on.

By now, you’re probably confused, or amused, or appalled at the change of roles. What change of roles you ask? Well, usually while reading a book, watching a romantic movie, or whatever, the female characters are mostly the ones to bring out their insecurities first and it’s the guy’s job to show them that they want them the way they are and that they accept them no matter what’s going on with them.

Relief filled him. He took another deep breath which he sharply exhaled, the same way you do when you’re asked to get in the cage against Conor McGregor. Then he carried on:

Do you ever sigh at the sight of someone or someone’s picture while contemplating in awe-mixed-with-surrendering sadness their beauty? You sigh, not because you think you can’t have that person, but you sigh because deep down you know that you’re incompatible and that it wouldn’t work out between the two of you. Or you sigh because that beauty is no longer within your reach after being right between your grasp. Or you sigh because you know that she’s out of your league and wouldn’t be interested in you. Or you sigh because she’s unavailable, as in either taken or already into someone else. In a simple way, you sigh because you’ve accepted the fact that you can’t have it. It’s probable that you might add other reasons, disagree with some of my reasons or suggest that those reasons could be summed up in one synthesized reason. Yet, it doesn’t matter. After all, that’s what I think and that’s what I wrote.

He turned the page again.

I could spend an eternity looking at just a picture of hers, drinking in her every single physical feature and it would bring me pure ecstasy. I could get lost in her big brown pearls that are her eyes. Oh, those bewitching eyes! And her lips. Her inviting, seducing, crimson-red lips! God how I’ve imagined kissing them after a big quarrel under the rain or on the beach after a delightful date – She smiled at that last line remembering what happened at the beach. – On her doorstep, after she’d jump-hug me because it’s been a while since the last time she saw me and she misses the hell out of me. And her nose. Her small delicate cute nose that I’d like to poke with my finger and caress my nose against as I hold both her cheeks with my warm palms and whisper a heart-thrilling « I love you » that’d send tingling sensation from her blushing cheeks down her spine and through her whole body. And her cheeks. Her soft-to-touch, easy-to-turn-red, round cheeks that I’d like to overwhelm with kisses. I still recall one of her funny pictures: Eyes wide open almost popping out of their sockets, cheeks pumped with air, messy hair with scattered stray hairs all over her face resulting in a deranged look. I love that picture. I love how simple and challenging she is. I love how carefree and genuinely caring she is. I love her cordial heart. I love everything about her…

As he went on reading his journal, her facial expressions changed from awe to affection to sadness to bewilderment and confusion to uncertainty. Of course, she was flattered. His words were sincere, captivating and most heartfelt. Her ego was boosted. She felt good about herself. She felt wanted. I bet that the « most wanted beauty queen » image that I drew at the beginning of this book was stuck inside your head that you’d find it surprising that she might even need to feel wanted since she catches everyone’s attention without breaking a sweat. Yet, you forget that she’s human. A human with her own insecurities and fears just like I’m insecure about my body fat and just like how you might be insecure about your hair, your nose’s shape or maybe how you think that you’re not smart enough for your circle of friends.

So yes, Delmore, with her external perfections, had her internal imperfections. She was aware of how everyone who’d hit on her was only trying to get in her pants. No one tried to unravel her, to discover her mysteries, to desire her for both her body and soul. Would you like to be objectified? The desire for merely some aging, desiccating physical features? If your answer is yes, then I advise you to start therapy sessions. You’ve low self-esteem issues. If your answer is no, then you’ve got an idea about how she was feeling. But aside from being flattered, she felt sad. Sad for him. Sad for his tortured soul. His melancholic, sorrowful words pierced through her sensitive heart. Hearing his anguish-filled written thoughts made her contemplate and relate to them.

I’m 99% certain that all of you have had this crush that wasn’t easy to shake off and persisted for quite a while. That perfect crush, so you saw him as. She, as well, had that kind of crush. And now as I repeat the word « crush » certainly, that crush has come to your mind and now you’re thinking about him/her. It hurts, doesn’t it? Him/her not noticing you or sharing your feelings towards him/her? Delmore recalled that crush. It was a high school crush. Bryan was his name. Charming fellow. Fairly tall, Broad shoulders, defined sharp-as-a-razor jawlines, smooth short hair, dazzling smile, and a body built for modeling or strip-teasing. Oh yeah, she would’ve definitely paid for a show. He was captain of the basketball team. Aside from the Greek-god physique, he was smart and successful. Top of his class, student Councillor, prom king… Girls were all over him and at that time, she was merely a normal high school girl, opposite to what Bryan had in mind. Sadly for her, Bryan never noticed her and so he was that kind of crush for Delmore.

As her sadness dissipated, she began to feel bewildered then irresolute. This was escalating quickly, she thought. It was happening all too fast for her and she hasn’t realized it until now because she was having such a good time. What should she do? What should she think? He said that he wasn’t in love with her. That certainly takes a heavy load off her shoulders. Yet, he wrote all that stuff for and about her. What if he’s already in love with her but he’s just trying to deny it? This was quite the dilemma for her right at that particular moment and her thoughts were just racing too fast for her to make a good decision

Meanwhile, Ryan’s thoughts hay-wired.

I am so going to regret this. Holly sh*t! There’s no going back from this. I just dropped a huge bomb on her head. I should’ve stalled. I should’ve diverged her attention to something else. I mean look at her, she looks… Unsure. I’m going to need a miracle to get out of this casualty-free. Well… The deed is done. Now wipe that stupid look off your face and try to look calm and reassuring as if what you just said is normal jabber. Time to put your psychological tricks to good use. Body language is your best friend now.
They kept silent for a couple of seconds. It felt like an eternity for both of them. None dared to make a comment first. Both assessing the situation and putting their thoughts together.

– You’ve been quiet for a while now. Don’t you have anything to say?

Ryan broke the silence barrier by those words.

– I don’t know what to say. I’ve never been in a similar situation before. Sure, some guys did confess that they were in love with me on a first date. But you didn’t and yet it feels like you’re doing just that. I guess I’m confused. Don’t get me wrong, today was the best date I’ve ever been on. Everything was so perfect… Until now… I don’t know what you’re expecting of me. You haven’t cleared that out specifically just yet. Do you want to jump into a romantic relationship right away? Do you want to take things slow?

She paused, recollecting herself.

– You’re a great guy. You’re smart, funny, creative, handsome and not boring. Yet this is happening all too fast for me

She stopped again for a moment, not daring to look him in the eyes. It was her time to pour out her insecurities. With a scared, dubious voice she freaked out:

– And what if you change your mind afterward? You know nearly nothing about me. What if the image you built in your head falls apart after you get to know the real me? What if I’m not what you expect me to be? You’re attracted to the outer part of me. That’s what all your writings indicate. But you still don’t know the real me. You haven’t dug deep enough through the layers. Even I don’t know much about you. You…

She suddenly jumped out of bed and started dressing up.

– I’m sorry… But this is happening way too fast and I need some time to think this through.

She was done dressing, all the while Ryan was struck speechless and stunned not knowing how to react. He looked as if his brain was short-circuiting. When he finally opened his mouth to speak and get out of bed, she held out a hand in protest and said almost regretfully:

– Please stay and don’t say a thing. I need some time to think on my own. I’ll call you as soon as I make a decision.

With those words, she headed down the latter and straight for the door. The poor guy sunk in his bed and looked up front. There was a phrase engraved on the wall that says I cherished. You perished. The world has been nightmarished. That quote made up his mind for him. He wasn’t going to let go as easily as that. With cat-like agility, he clambered out of bed, jumped through the ledge of the bedroom and bolted towards Delmore to grab her hand right when she was about to close the door behind her and yanked her in his embrace. He pulled her to him and kissed her. He kissed her so passionately as if her lips were oxygen and he was stranded in outer space. I want you to imagine the most passionate kiss from a movie scene or a kiss that you already had. Remember the notebook, the kissing scene under the rain? Close enough.

When he loosened his clasp, he put both his hands on her cheeks, looked her straight in the eyes and said:

– I know how confusing and terrifying this must be for you. And I understand if you need time to adjust. But I wouldn’t let you go before I tell you this: I want you. I want you more than anyone and anything I’ve ever wanted. I don’t know how to explain it but I just want you. You’re interesting. You’re beautiful. Conversations with are the best kind of conversations. And most of all, you are interested in me. I’m not in love with you because I haven’t got to know all of you. But I’m looking forward to it. I want to know everything there is to know about you. Your insecurities most of all. That’s what makes me want you more. To know that we’re both damaged and yet still want each other. I’m willing to do whatever it takes for you. If you want baby steps, we’ll do baby steps. If you want to jump right into it, then we’ll do just that. As long as I have you. What do you say?’

Let’s take a break here. Now now, don’t start cursing me for taking a break right at the sweet moment you’ve all been waiting for. I’d like to share with you a little story:

I once went out with a lady named Cassandra. She was Gorgeous, achieved, successful, the whole premium package. Everything that makes a dream woman. Or at least that’s what I thought and that’s what she sold me. She was actually in the marketing business so she knew exactly how to do that. We hung out several times. Each time we’d try something different. She made me experience things I never thought I had the guts to try out. I went bungee jumping with her. I tried things I didn’t know that they even existed. I went on a blind date with her. A blind date usually refers to a date where you don’t know whom you’re meeting, set up by one of your friends or family members because they think that your dating life sucks. This blind date meant ‘We were both in this blind-themed cafe where we sit in the dark and talk with no boundaries what so ever’. I tried things that never occurred to me to try. We volunteered at a soup kitchen during Christmas season. Comfort zone had no limits back then. It felt heavenly. I had no worries, no stress and all my daily issues had evaporated. And it was all thanks to her. We’d meet every day for lunch and dinner. we’d spend weekends together. This kept going on for a couple of weeks and in the back of my head, even though we haven’t established what kind of relationship this was, I thought that we’re a couple. My entourage thought so. I thought so. The waiters at the restaurants thought so. The lady at the Starbucks counter thought so. My neighbors surely thought so with all the noise we made. We sure did wake lots of neighbors. I believe I even made enemies out of them. Anyway, that’s how no one has seen it coming. I found out, the hard way, that I was her… Plaything. Rebound, whatever you call it. I caught her one day when I was jogging at the park, making out with another man. We were supposed to have a picnic at that park that day but she canceled saying that she had an urgent matter she had to attend to. It turned out that the guy was her fiance. She needed space to think whether she was ready to commit to him or not and I was her guinea pig. I kept her secret. I took it as a man but I swore that day that she was out of my life for good.

You’d wonder what does this story have to do with Ryan and Delmore. Well, buckle up: Delmore couldn’t take it anymore. She was feeling too emotional to hold on any longer. And that’s when she broke down… She started crying. Tears running down both her cheeks. Ryan was taken aback by her reaction. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He expected something more of either a rejection with a runaway or acceptance with lots of kissing and probably more sex.