“Would you be my girlfriend?”

That was one of the questions I’ve been waiting for all my life. The setting was perfect too: late afternoon when the sun was about to set on the beach while the  wind blew my hair away from my face. The sound of the waves was the natural background music, enough to mess with the rhythm of my beating heart.

He was a really nice person I’ve known since I was little. Stable job, more than enough income, work hours that would still enable us to have a nice conversation together after a long day—all were perfect to secure a nice simple life full of romance. Good looks, caring and considerate attitude, tender loving—all were perfect to make someone feel wanted and loved each and every day. What more does a woman have to ask for?

But still, something was missing. Love. Not his, but mine. He was not the person I was in love with all this time. That was the one that’s missing.
The person I loved was someone who would not love me—at least, not in the way that I love the person. The person I loved wouldn’t care about the perfect timing, the perfect place, or the perfect words. But, I was swayed by all your imperfections anyway.

Yes. Yours. I was a fool who threw away the world that was offered to me on a silver plate just to chase a nonexistent future.

“Would you be my girlfriend?”

The second time I heard those words was at the dance room, right after our practice ended. The other members headed out to the vending machine and water cooler. I was sitting in the corner of the room, tired and just wanted to rest and not move a muscle. I was still there, deep in my thoughts. Because, you were also there, sitting right next to me.

The setting was nowhere near perfect, far from what I’ve been dreaming of since my time in kindergarten. The time was even worse since we both were exhausted after hours of practice. I was literally drenched with sweat and I let it all out, running on my skin, dropping down to the floor. But still, my heart beats were crazier than they ever be. Deafening rhythm went faster and faster with every tick of the seconds. And I know it wasn’t the residue of the practice. I know, because it was you saying the words.

“What would you do if someone says those words to you, Kkura-ya?” you continued.

I smiled. Of course. Of course you didn’t just ask me to be yours. Of course you were just asking a hypothetical question—probably wanting my opinion since someone else might have just asked you out. It’s probably him that asked for your number right? Or was it the guy who hosted that one TV show with you?

“Well, actually…,” I decided to tell you the truth, “Someone did say that to me last summer.”

I watched closely for any change in your expression. I watched for any tick in your gesture. How would you react to my revelation?

A second passed before you exclaimed, “Really???”

I just laughed.

“Who was it???”

I thought there was a hint of jealousy in your question. But, perhaps, it was just my wishful thinking. Or perhaps, you were actually jealous—because someone confessed to me first before someone did the same to you, and I didn’t tell you anything about it before.

“It’s a S-E-C-R-E-T!” I tried to play it out.

“Really, Kkura-yaaa? I want to know! So, how did you reply to it?”

I smiled again.

“Isn’t it obvious?” it really was an easy answer to make, “I said that I was sorry. We have that prohibition about love and romantic relationship after all. And also, I wanted to focus on IZ*ONE.”

“Just like that?”

“Yes. Just like that. What did you expect?” I kept the smile on my lips.

I pushed my body up from the wooden floor and held a hand out for her.

“It’s such a waste actually. He really was an ideal man,” I said.

“Eeeh? Was he an actor? Come on, Kkura-ya, you should tell me more! I’m curious!” you held my hand as you stood up before we continued walking, still holding hands.

“Nah… It’s a story for another time. Let’s go?”

You were still muttering your protests. I just laughed at your annoyed expression and guided you to the vending machines with my arms around yours.

The truth was: I didn’t really want to talk about this with you. I didn’t want to tell you my story just to hear you telling yours afterwards. I didn’t want to know who that guy was—the one that was asking you out. I didn’t want to hear anything about anyone who had a better chance to get your heart—simply because he was born as a he and I wasn’t.

Yes. I did turn that person down. I didn’t have those feelings for him although he had everything a woman ever needed. Even though all of those were also true, the real reason I turned him down was because I have always been in love with you.

You’re still here and I’ll still be able to be one of your closest friends as long as I’m still here as well. If one day you finally meet the right one and fall in love, I wonder how I will be. I did say that you'd probably date someone before me. I promised myself to congratulate you with a smile on my face, just in case it will be the last time we see each other once you have a devoted relationship in the near future. Maybe 3 years? 4 years? 10 years?. But, then, when the time comes, when you’re already been married, what will I do when someone asks me that question again?

Whatever happens in the future, I wish for us to be reborn again. In another life, in another time, under different circumstances, I hope I’ll get to be the one who ask you that question:

Would you be my girlfriend?

I wonder how you would respond to my words then…