“You’re a very lovely woman.” Her colored lips receded to allow sight of manicured teeth.  Her eyes flattened into thick lines comprised of lashes and dark makeup. For a moment, I felt grace granting a wish; a true smile from a pretty girl. The moment vanished. Her right hand jumped upward and landed across , concealing her gratitude, covering her embarrassment. I knew she felt shame for having revealed her smile.

“But, I recently checked my pockets and I’m pretty sure I left all traces of concern for this evening at home.” I pushed my chair away from the dinner table and shoved my hands in my pocket. “There’s not a single piece of care in here.” I showed her my empty hands.

The woman dropped her hand into her lap. Her smile faded. Her head drooped. Strands of hair swung down across her face. She looked down into her lap and refused visual contact with me. I shattered happiness in a matter of seconds.

Should I have apologized? Should I have attempted some words of comfort? Should I have neglected my boredom and suffered through the rest of the date? No. I spent an hour with that woman and I couldn’t even recall her name. What business did I have with a nameless woman?

“I have no interest in continuing this date.” My words were frank, but necessary. Tears could have been shed. Her self-confidence could have been bruised. Inferiority complexes develop from s like myself. Not my emotions, not my concern.

I took a final look at the woman before me. Her dress was red. Her hair was long. Her lips were dark. Her scent was vanilla. Those alluring tactics had no effect on me. Contrary to most of my male friends, I was not allured by her beauty or her mature, put-together image. Her appearance did quite the opposite. Her dainty feelings were so sore, she wasn’t even bold enough to look at me. I wanted to leave.

“Don’t call me.” I left the restaurant in indifference, with my gaze forward and my hands in my pockets. I wasn’t oblivious to feelings, I know I hurt her. But, the thing was, I felt no guilt. I didn’t feel guilty for walking out on the date I promised to attend. I felt relieved.

I’ve met her type before. I’m not fond of it. Those girls want nothing more than to appear pretty in front of men. They spend hours getting made up only to refuse the showing of natural bodily occurrences. Those girls won’t show their smile, laugh, appetite, or anything else they deem as unpretty. The woman I spent the evening with ordered a meal that I knew she had no intention of finishing. Why pay for something you’re not even going to eat? Why wear a revealing dress if you’re going to be cold? Why wear tight clothing if you’re just going to get mad when a man visually appreciates your iness? Why put on lipstick if you’re only going to hide your mouth every time you do a little humanly act known as smiling? Those women bore me.

The only woman I wanted, wasn’t a woman at all, but a girl. A young girl who was full of insecurities, doubts, and worries for her next math exam. How could such a delicate face twist itself into anxiety? Her eyebrows were so thin and little, but they wrinkled together in stress on the daily. I wanted to make it better for my second year student, Park Minri.

Minri, let me make you happy. Accept my heart. I will make you feel good. I will kiss every crease of your eyebrows until they flatten. I will love every inch of you until you’re intoxicated by pure passion. You can be my entire world, if you desire me.