Her: Well, I’m single, you can give his number to me.
He turned red. Noticeably? Had she noticed? In a way
he was wishing she had. Although maybe it did not matter, he felt that that was
her way of telling him that she was not available. Or rather, she was
available, but not to him. He shook his head.
Her: What?
He sat still, he was fighting an urge to shake his
head again or to directly spew a big No.
Her: Why?
He just could not speak. He was incapable. His
silence, his blushing, his desperate stare, but most of all, his refusal to
speak had to be enough to dissuade her. Later he would come to realize, from
this moment, that it contained the sign he had been looking for. He was trying
to figure out whether he liked her or not, but the moment she asked for that
guy’s number, he had to refuse, for he actually did. Indeed.
She mentioned how she was done dating guys in their
field of work after a bad experience with one of them, she wanted to find a
good man from her own country, or at least from a similar culture to hers. He
was starting to pick up the hints, had she realized that he had some interest
in her? Was she being diplomatic to avoid a confrontation? Was she navigating
her way steering away from that common iceberg where she tells the guy “I don’t
see you in the same way”? Was she trying to salvage yet another of those lost
vessels of friendship where two people had given opposite names to a ship they
were not on board yet?
They moved to other topics, but he had to come
clean, it was bugging him too much and he could not keep it inside. Anyways,
she had made it clear enough that she did not want anything with him, so why
not just put it all out, move past it and perhaps even get a good laugh at it.
Him: You
know what? What the hell I want to be honest with you. There’s a reason I won’t
give you my friend’s contact.
Her: What’s
that?
Him: I am
still trying to decide whether I like you. It’s my own contact the only one I
want to hand you.
Her: You’re
what? You’re trying to decide?
Him: Yes,
it’s not easy. You know… It’s hard to know if I like you, because I have never
seen someone as beautiful as you. If I like you, I want to make sure is not
just by the way you look.
Her: You
shouldn’t like me.
There was no pause and he noticed that, it was very
natural for her. She knew what she wanted, or rather what she didn’t. If any of
the earlier signs she had given him were unintended, this one was not. He had
to reckon, though, she was being outstandingly friendly about it. But he was
also not set on anything yet, he meant it when he said that he was still
pondering.
Him: Ok.
I can do that.
She made a fist and offered it to him. A fist bump.
As much as he hated leaving someone with an open hand (or a closed fist in this
case) hanging, he had to be true first and foremost. He had to be sure that he
could stay true to that fist before bumping it.
Him:
Wait, I need a minute.
She seemed confused.
Him: To
make up my mind. I need to convince myself.
She waited.
Him: Ok.
He held his fist up doubtingly.
Him: Is
it still available?
Their fists bumped and they smiled. The cosmos
proclaimed them friends in a solemn act.
Her: So
you want to fall in love? Isn’t it too soon to be looking for that?
Him: I
do. I need to find someone to love.
Her: Do
you think that’s healthy?
Him: That’s
just who I am. I need to give myself away.
She could not agree with that and maybe he was not
really healthy, like she suggested. But he seemed to have accepted himself as
such, a long time ago, and she could respect that. She had something to teach
him, but he was not open to learn and there was not much she could do about it.
Not that she felt compelled to either. She didn’t have all answers anyway, that
was a point they both had reached in their own ways, they both knew better than
taking “the greater good” too seriously.
Her: It’s
set, I will help you find a girlfriend. What do you like in women?
Him: In
one wand I like women who look Asian and women who are tall. On the other hand
I value when they are very smart and very funny.
From her point of view, the remark felt a little
odd. Was he trying to describe her? Was he trying to turn things in such a way
that she could only think of herself as the best match for him? She was
definitely Asian, and she was certainly tall and exceedingly funny. So, was he
trying to say “this is how you appear to me”, and in that way cynically compliment
her on being smart? It bothered her that he was making such an intended comment
right after accepting to stop flirting. But she looked past that. After all, compared
to other guys, he was being quite polite about it and so she chose to overlook
it.
Her: Do
you have any preferred nationalities?
Him: Chinese
and thai.
From his point of view, in turn, the remark was
freeing. He felt relieved. He was being fully honest about something that under
normal circumstances one discloses only to someone they are not interested in.
On top of that, Asians were a lot and he was not particularly leaning towards
Koreans despite his record. She was also not particularly tall according to him,
so, for all he knew she was quite smart and that was about it.
They would probably never find out how diametrically
opposite their evaluation of that remark had been.
Her: Chinese?
Him: Anyways
you don’t need to help me with anything. I believe love will happen regardless
of what you’re looking for. I don’t think it’s a good idea to follow these
“standards” very narrowly.
They jumped to lighter topics for a while and
relaxed. Some kind of weight had been lifted and they had a few silences to
enjoy as well. Slowly the night started to approach its closure and they both
were satisfied. They were both friends in each other’s eyes. He was still
looking at the most beautiful woman in the world and it was impossible not to
see her that way, but he was confident that he could treat her as a friend. She
was confident too, whether he found her as beautiful as he said (which was for
sure not something she could accept as true), that her best version was as a
friend than anything else. Friendship was the best gift she could bless anyone
with and he would come to understand that eventually.
Him: My friend is at the bar, he just hit
me up.
Her: You
can leave if you want, I will chill here a little longer.
Him: I
mean, you could join us if you’re in the mood.
Her: I
think I will pass on that this time.
Him: Let
me show you something.
He pulled out his phone and opened an instagram chat
with their common friend. In it he was referring to a post she had never seen,
some text in his native language, which he had conveniently translated for
their friend.
The message read: “Everything was ok while you were
still a dream. The problem came when you became real, when you looked at me and
smiled. When you birthed my name. Because someone like you only made sense in
an oneiric world. Reality had no business pretending to shape your eyes and your
lips into existence, and still there they were defying it.” As it read in the
chat, he had disclosed a few days before to their friend, that he had written
this small text inspired by her.
Her heart pumped extra hard just once and the blood
in her veins rushed for a moment into her whole body. It was not because of
believing that he meant everything he had told her before, it was believing, if
only for a moment, that she could actually be what he saw in her. Words spoke
to her, words were her language in a way he probably didn’t understand. She
didn’t understand it herself, how could anyone. It wasn’t him speaking, those
words spoke from a further place. In a way, she had made those words her own.
Her: I am
uncomfortable now.
He smiled triumphant.
Him: You are
supposed to be.
He was enjoying it and he was making no effort to
hide it.
Her: I
need to excuse myself for a moment.
The mirror of a washroom that oddly mixed luxury and
carelessness showed her a foreign image. For a few moments she did not
recognize herself. She had seen herself in the mirror so many times before,
always wanting to be that person. Ever feeling that she could never quite reach
the image on the other side, as if her own reflection mocked her. And for once,
she felt exactly the contrary. She was more than her reflection. The real her,
the one standing on her own side of the mirror, was the better one.
Her: So, is
your friend still at the bar?
It had taken her just a minute, but she seemed to have
completely overcome her former discomfort. They were friends again, had he
unconsciously tested her too, to see if she could also stay true to her own
side of the fist bump?
Him: I
don’t know, when we’re done here I will ask him if he’s still there.
Her: Ask
him, if he’s there I will join you.
His heart skipped a beat, had she had a change of
heart? He shook his head mentally to take himself off that thought, he was
betraying his fist bump.
Him: Sure.
She seemed more focused than before, and still somehow
withdrawn.
Her: Why
did you show me that?
She was talking about the text from before. He felt
a sort of deja vú. He had already been asked to explain something that did not
require an explanation before.
Him: I
just wanted to. In any case I showed it to you in a recognition of the wooing
being over. If I were still flirting with you, I wouldn’t have showed it to
you.
She sat back withdrawing herself briefly again.
Her: I am
not that smart.
Him: Are
you trying to convince me not to like you? It’s okay, you don’t--
Her: You
said you like smart women. I’m not that smart. I am very funny, but I am not
that smart.
Who was she trying to convince, and what was she
trying to convince them of? Did she even know what she was telling him? Was it
the period in which one returns an item they just purchased while the store
still takes it back no questions asked? She was returning that fist bump and
she didn’t even know why.
Him: Now it’s
me who’s uncomfortable.
Her: Why?
Him: You’re
smart enough to know why.
Only then she realized. She hadn’t meant to get a
message across, but she had slipped one and he had picked up on it. Her words
had already taken over her own will, so what the hell, she let go of the reins
in her throat one last time.
Her: So,
you were trying to figure out whether you like me or not, huh? What did you
decide?
They were on the same page and he could not believe
his ears.
Him: Like
I told you, it’s hard to know because of how pretty you are.
She smirked. She needed time to process too.
