I was never a warm person nor am I sweet and I definitely am NOT romantic. I was never a believer of the Sunday school version of romance; never grew up encouraged by the sweep-you-off-your-feet, come-what-may, true-love’s-kiss, someday-my-prince-will-come, Cinderella-story kind of romance. They never existed, it doesn’t and it definitely never will. I used to think so. They never existed until I met him and made me feel how getting knocked off one’s socks was.

I was never into holding hands, hugging and cuddling. I stiffen when people hug me, gag when I see other people being silly with each other. I definitely do not make too much contact with other people, never dwell long enough to know what that ‘warmth’ everyone’s talking about was. Everything’s just sappy to me and I get unpleasant feelings whenever I sense anything close to it.  It changed though when he came along, making me yearn for that warmth, wondering all the time when the next time would be, restlessly waiting until I have my fingers intertwined with his.

I was never one to favor cute and fluffy things. I never squeal in delight when I see furry puppies or pudgy babies. I was rather indifferent to them. Rainbows and unicorns were never the content of my dreams, nor were my horizons made with orange and cherry marmalades. I was never cut out for sweet things. They never appealed to me in the least bit until he smiled my way, his eyes turning into crescents. Those things never meant anything to me until I heard him call me ‘noona’ in that rather husky voice that was ironically innocent no matter how outrageous his words were.

I was never one to be easily moved emotionally. I am a rather indifferent person and while others cried about the silliest things, sappy movies and the like, I scoffed. While others feel their hearts swell and sink in anticipation while feeling, witnessing or hearing about anything romantic, heart-wrenching or happy, I always found myself lacking reaction. I was insensitive to these things, but then, the first time he yelled at me and I felt his anger, despite barely knowing him, he made me cry and I knew it wasn’t because of frustration, but because of hurt. He was capable of making me smile, laugh, cry…dream.

I was never affectionate. I’ve always had a hard time trying to express how I felt, but the odd thing was that it only happens when it’s a positive feeling. I knew how to say the words, but to say them in a way wherein the other person would feel it, I was never capable of it, not even to my parents. Love, thankfulness, joy and pride, I felt them, I guess, but I never really knew how I would make other people feel them. I never tell and I’ve definitely never done anything