I wish someone would have told me that love isn't always mutual. If I had known this, I wouldn't have made a fool of myself in front of my crush. The worst part of this was that I went all out (chocolates, balloons and all), to catch him exchanging 'I love you's with his current... lady friend. I mean, he told me he didn't have a girlfriend, and if I still ask, he will answer the same thing.

 

"No, I don't have a girlfriend right now. I do have friends who are girls, but I have nothing exclusive with any of them," he said. 

 

Yeah, sure. I mean, saying 'I love you' is nothing exclusive. It all happened three hours ago, and now its five in the evening. I called home to say I was staying the night at a friend's house, and I called my friend to cover for me if Mom ever called, so I have my night free, basically. 

 

I choose to visit an arcade called Galaxy's Place, where I play it all, from race cars, to air hockey (with a twelve year old named Mino who ran away from home), to basketball hoops, and by the time its time for me to leave, a bunch of guys come in. Hot guys at that. 

 

They look like angels and devils, each with their own pair of hypnotizing, twinkling eyes that could fool anyone into subjugating under their mercy. They are captivating, and they seem to have casted a spell on everyone in the place, including myself. 

 

I look down, because I feel like someone as ugly as me isn't worthy of looking at perfect people like them.However, I feel a hand being placed on my shoulder and I look up, startled. 

 

"A pretty girl like you shouldn't have gone through what you just did today," a voice as soft as a feather speaks. The eyes burned as much as a summer day at the beach. They capture my soul, and I know... I know I fell in love. He has the voice of an angel, and the eyes of a devil --a mortal combination. 

 

All I know is that there's no way out, so I enjoy the fall, with no hopes of getting caught before hitting the cold, solid ground. 

 

I don't find strange the fact that he knows what happened, even though he's a stranger to me. I did find weird the fact that he singled me out and talked to me out of his own will. 

 

"What?" I ask. However, I don't care about the answer, I only want to hear that angelic voice that makes my knees feel weak again. 

 

"Sorry, I haven't introduced myself yet," he says, then he clears his throat. I still can't get over the fact that he decided to speak to me, but then I look around the arcade to find it almost barren. It makes sense now. "My name is Kim Jong Dae, and I'm an exchange student. I got here a week ago and was placed into another group, but I have seen you around... and I thought you were pretty ever since I saw you."

 

... and I thought you were pretty ever since I saw you. 

 

... and I thought you were pretty ever since I saw you.

 

... and I thought you were pretty ever since I saw you.

 

In my mind, I am hyperventilating. I mean, sure, I may have some pretty characteristics, but I am not as... beautiful as him. 

 

"And I was wondering," he speaks again with a pause (in order to make my heart burst from nervousness, I bet). "I wondered if you ever wanted to go see a movie some time?"

 

"Me?" I ask. Because seriously, who would ever consider me as dating material? I am inexperienced, dorky, too intelligent for some guy's liking, too short, too pale, too ug-

 

"Yeah, I mean, unless... you don't want to?" He adds. 

 

Please, just give me a second to absorb all of this new information. I mean, a handsome male asks me out for a date right after seeing me fail at my attempt of getting myself a boyfriend. 

 

"No, no, no. Its not that I don't want to, it's just that... really? You want to go on a date with me?" Stupid people are bound to do stupid stuff, and so, I just blab. 

 

"Yeah. Its seven thirty, we can still catch a bite and then I can drop you off at your home. Is that okay?" He takes a step closer to me, and I notice that his eyes are actually brown, not black, that his hair has a certain curve at its ends, and that his smile is really white, and that its not a mind trick caused by the angle that the lighting reflects on his mouth. 

 

"Yeah, sure," I say. "But wait, what about your friends?" 

 

"They're big boys, they can handle themselves," and just like that, I am dragged around by this beautiful male. 

 

Strangely, as I eat a tasty hotdog, I start thinking about the future. Jong Dae's hands are big and they seem warm, and I want to touch them --to hold them. I can imagine myself with him three months from now going on our fifth date, and still getting all shy around each other. I can see him a year later, kissing me under the moonlight as I had just said yes to his question, "would you be my girlfriend?" I can hear myself thinking, good thing he didn't say 'would you be mine?' I would've said 'no, I am my own and no one owns me'.

 

I can imagine myself with him years from now. I can see him sitting with me at a couch while we see movies. I see him laying down so that his head ends up on my lap and I see me playing with his hair, not paying attention to the movie. I see him ignoring the movie as well, and I see me lost in his chocolate eyes. I see me intertwining our fingers, and I see him sitting up and bringing our lips together. I see him standing up, and getting down on one knee before me, and I see me blushing and gasping. I see him proclaiming his love to me and asking my hand in marriage, and I see me accepting even before he finishes talking. 

 

I see a bright future with him, and I am mildly scared, for I can't actually do much more other than create impossible tomorrows with scenes too cliché to ever become real. There is no assurance that there would be anything at all after tonight, so I feed my curiosity and reach for his free hand that moved back and forth as he walked beside me, intertwining our fingers. 

 

His hand is soft, warm, big, and it gives me a sense of calmness that sets my heart wild in my chest. All my muscles relax under this small contact, and I find that its all I ever wished for. His hand holds onto mine after a seconds, as well; there I know that maybe, just maybe, he's reached and imagined 'impossible tomorrows' of his own, and is willing to make them future.