Waiting (v.)

-        Waiting affirms our existence.

Our plan the next day was not to have a plan, which is absurd, because not having a plan is having a plan without clear limitations, which is more terrifying than not having a plan at all. I am a big fan of planning only because I like to know beforehand what to expect. I like making things happen instead of waiting for things to happen.

But with Minho, it seemed, I was willing to try anything.

After class he grabbed me suddenly and led me out of the room. I was not even able to say goodbye to Jinki or Kai. Truthfully, I never really wanted to say goodbye to them, it’s not like we do not see each other every day, but I wanted to stall our so-called date. But at the same time I am excited to know what Minho wanted for us to do. It was unnerving to be with Minho. It’s like being in Dante’s 10th circle of hell and Lewis’ Narnia – it’s wonderful and daunting at the same time.

But I let it slide anyway. There is nothing novel about that feeling. My life is an accumulation of ironies, after all.

He brought me to where he first asked me out – at the abandoned Psych room. Once there he led me into the room which looked different from how I first saw it. It wasn’t the dusty, stuffy, worn room that it was. There was a table in the middle of the room and atop was a parcel of Chinese take-out food.

“This time, I’m sure no one can see us,” he said as he sat down. I followed suit and sat down opposite of him. He began to lay out the take-out, which is to say, he began opening the take-out boxes that contained our lunch. He gave me a pair of chopstick and he began to eat.

I couldn’t help but smile. It wasn’t exactly grand or luxurious but it was distinctly him – practical, clandestine, and unexpected.

While we were eating I noticed him glance at me every once in a while, waiting for me to start a conversation. I put him out of his waiting and I began talking about my favorite books – a neutral topic of conversation.

I began talking about my favorite sci-fi series of all time, The Wheel of Time, and how it was the reason that I got interested in the mechanics of the universe, and by extension, physics. I was waiting for him to respond in some sort be he kept insisting I talk, which is sort of odd. I am used to listening to other people, but only to because I loved to listen. It felt different, being listened to. It was all entirely new to me and probably me to him. It would have been easy for me to lie about the things I said, to make myself seem more impressive in his judgment. Yet I told the truth and spoke candidly as if he were my old friend.

Eventually, I ran out of stories to tell and then he began telling me his favorite books too. Minho, surprisingly, was a big fan of the classics, The Catcher in the Rye being his favorite of all time. It got me to wonder just how much Holden there is in him.

Even after we finished our lunch, we remained in the room. We both moved our chairs to overlook the courtyard through the window. We talked about the university and our classmates and professors.

There was an unspoken recognition as we swapped stories, the recognition that wh