Probably day three hundred-ish.

I saw her!

She’s as beautiful as always. Her glowing white skin, her sweet smile whenever she greets the florist in front of my shop. God, how I wish right now I work at a florist instead of a bookstore. That way, I could be outside and greet her most of the time. But here I am, stuck with my love for books, and I would doom myself for eternity with the curse of only watching the love of my life walking back and forth as she walk to work in the morning, and later in the night she would walk back from work.

When poking around with the nearby café’s barista, I figure out that she’s an apprentice nurse at a nearby hospital. She started working last autumn—which is riiiight around the first time I saw her walking through this street—and she’d finish her apprenticeship next month. Good grief, I love having a barista as a friend. They fish out priceless, priceless information for a desperate lover like I do, in the blink of an eye. Well, not necessarily the blink of an eye—a regular small talk between her coffee and donut order would be more like it.

He doesn’t know her name, though.

Since she’s always the first costumer of the day, their cashier never asks for a name for her orders.

Damn, I’ll have to figure that out myself.

                                                                                *             *             *

The next day.

She’s always so beautiful.

God, give me mercy.

Her beautiful smile, her completely adorable dimples, and the way her honey colored hair bounce on her ponytail as she rushed the street this morning. I think I might faint at any given moment…

But of course, I can’t faint while carrying boxes of book. Or else the next thing she check on her morning routine is my dead body, killed by about two dozen of thick dictionaries falling all over my body.

Such a disgusting horror.

It’s a quarter past seven. She’s late by ten minutes, is that what’s causing her rush?

                                                                                *             *             *

Again, the next day.

I remembered the first and the last day we ever talk to each other.

Not in an intimate way, of course…

She spotted a new book displayed on the rack as she walks to the hospital. It’s an old classic story, actually for kids. An illustrated collection of classic fairytales. I—tried as hard as I could to—casually ask her if it was for her younger siblings, and she laughed while shaking her head. She said, she had always loved classic fairytales, and she thought it would be a good idea to read it to the child patients in the hospital’s east wing. She said the east wing are for terminally ill patients, but she also said she saw nothing else aside than the will to live in those children’s eyes. She wished me a good day ahead as she left my shop, then the next thing I knew, I couldn’t stop picturing her smile in my head as I work all day.

Then for every single day since that day, I saw her walk to work at exactly five past seven in the morning, and she would usually come home at five. Or at some other time, six or seven.

                                                                                *             *             *

Again, the next day.

When would this ever change?

I can’t keep staring at her from afar… aside than being rude, I just can’t deny that I long to talk to her again. Ever since that day I have tried to put up more classic fairytale collections on the display rack to attract her attention, but all of them only end in her looking at the rack from outside. Occasionally waving at me then smiling before she left.

I really, really wish I could know her better…

                                                                                *             *             *

The day after.

This is going to end today.

I put on the best shirt I have in my closet, even spraying a bit of cologne on myself before I open the store this morning.

I will talk to her. Today. Yes, today!

It doesn’t really matter what came out of my lips, but I knew I have to talk to her. Before her apprenticeship end. Before she left the neighborhood, forgetting anything there is to remember about me. I can’t let that happen!

Oh, there she is… as usual, walking down the street in her jeans and polo shirt, carrying a backpack and a folder full of papers in her arms. I could see the book that she bought her in between those papers, and I knew I had to do it today. It is now or never.

“Excuse me, miss!” I walk out my store just as soon as she set her foot on the pavement in front of my store.

“I—I, umm, do you remember me? My name is Hongbin. Lee. Lee Hongbin, I own this bookstore right here. Y-you bought that book,” I pointed to the book she held, “in my store. Re-remember?” god, why do I stutter in this very crucial moment?

“I’ve b-been watching you. Ever since,” I took a pause to take a deep breath and calm myself down, her face only showing a mixture of shock and confused. Go on, Hongbin, you can do it!

“I always see you. Every morning. You would trot down the street, and greet Mrs. Kim the florist right there, and how I wish I was her. Not that I wish I am an old lady, but, you get my point? I want you to greet me, instead of her,” I continued, showing an apologetic hand gesture to Mrs. Kim as she playfully glared at me.

“I- I fell in love with you! For every single day since you came to my store! You, your dimples that would show every single time you greet Mrs. Kim and smile, your bouncy honey colored hair, your dedication for work, and your love for the kids….” I gulped on my own saliva, barely believing what I had just said.

“God, I love you! I fell in love with you! I might not know who your name is or how old are you, and you just knew my name three minutes ago, but I love you!” I blurt out the final words before gasping for air; my face is definitely tinted in red as I chew my lips, finally considering the aftereffects of the words I just said. I couldn’t manage to look at her face; she definitely thinks I’m a creeper. Or at least a weirdo.

But to my surprise, she took a step closer to me, saying, “After three hundred and sixty five days, and you just say that now?”