A Fictional (maybe) Story
Some stories end before they have even begun.
I was on my way to class when she appeared in front of me, with a guy I have never seen before. Let me start from the beginning. To say that she is pretty is probably an understatement. Elegant, delicate, exquisite, she is everything but outgoing. She’s always with the same guy, the guy whom I will henceforth name as the guy who is always smiling. Well, if I were him, I would be smiling like that too.
But in any case, they are not together. That much, I have already established.
I could only come up with two possible reasons as to her introversion: one, she is simply shy, especially around guys; two, she is already attached, just that her boyfriend is not in this course. Either of these reasons would explain her wariness of guys, aside from the guy who is always smiling.
I envy him, because this is a girl whom you wouldn’t mind being mistaken as a couple for.
And after a while, you somehow convince yourself, thereby giving yourself false hopes that her introversion is more due to the former rather than the latter.
So as they first appeared before me, I thought the guy was just one of the many constantly seeking her attention. Until their hands touch in that gentle, delicate way, her gentle, delicate way. Until I see her smile, the kind of smile I, or anybody else in the world other than him for that matter, could never hope to be on the receiving end of.
In class, I sat behind them. He sat between her and the guy who is always smiling. He took out nothing, but just sat there. He was simply accompanying her, sitting in her classes, to spend more time with her, to understand her routine a bit more.
All very sweet; something I would have done myself.
A few minutes before the end of the class, she leaned forward and said something to the guy who is always smiling. I knew she was telling him that they were leaving. He held out a hand in acknowledgement. And all the time, the boyfriend sat in between them. He sat between them, between everybody else and her.
And I felt silly for envying him, the guy who is always smiling. It must have been difficult to sit through all that.
My attention went back to the couple, but they were already gone. I sat, rooted to my seat till the class was over.
And so the story is over, not before it has even begun, but after a page.
I was on my way to class when she appeared in front of me, with a guy I have never seen before. Let me start from the beginning. To say that she is pretty is probably an understatement. Elegant, delicate, exquisite, she is everything but outgoing. She’s always with the same guy, the guy whom I will henceforth name as the guy who is always smiling. Well, if I were him, I would be smiling like that too.
But in any case, they are not together. That much, I have already established.
I could only come up with two possible reasons as to her introversion: one, she is simply shy, especially around guys; two, she is already attached, just that her boyfriend is not in this course. Either of these reasons would explain her wariness of guys, aside from the guy who is always smiling.
I envy him, because this is a girl whom you wouldn’t mind being mistaken as a couple for.
And after a while, you somehow convince yourself, thereby giving yourself false hopes that her introversion is more due to the former rather than the latter.
So as they first appeared before me, I thought the guy was just one of the many constantly seeking her attention. Until their hands touch in that gentle, delicate way, her gentle, delicate way. Until I see her smile, the kind of smile I, or anybody else in the world other than him for that matter, could never hope to be on the receiving end of.
In class, I sat behind them. He sat between her and the guy who is always smiling. He took out nothing, but just sat there. He was simply accompanying her, sitting in her classes, to spend more time with her, to understand her routine a bit more.
All very sweet; something I would have done myself.
A few minutes before the end of the class, she leaned forward and said something to the guy who is always smiling. I knew she was telling him that they were leaving. He held out a hand in acknowledgement. And all the time, the boyfriend sat in between them. He sat between them, between everybody else and her.
And I felt silly for envying him, the guy who is always smiling. It must have been difficult to sit through all that.
My attention went back to the couple, but they were already gone. I sat, rooted to my seat till the class was over.
And so the story is over, not before it has even begun, but after a page.
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