My sister once asked me if I believed in “the fated one.” My answer was a curt, simple “no.” The reasoning behind that assertion was that I just did not believe that there existed one fated person for each of Earth’s population of seven plus billion. People simply fell in and out of love with another person too easily. All it took were a few conversations, a few physical contacts, and then boom, love. And to fall out of love with someone only requires the same – just with someone else. That’s the easy way. The hard way...well, let’s just say many different components and scenarios were capable of doing so and harm both or all parties.

Essentially, people were too fickle and the concept of love was too ephemeral, too fleeting.

I was not claiming that it was impossible for people to stay in love with their partners for long, but I just didn’t see myself as one of those. But never did I know that my heart was so contradicting to the theory that I stubbornly stood by since day one.

Obviously, I did not intend on spending my entire life switching among countless partners or remaining single. However, I still fully rejected the idea of marriage. Commitment. It wasn’t the idea of staying with someone for the rest of my life that repelled me. It was everything that came with that. Everything that dating encompassed was already burdensome enough in theory and in practice for me, but marriage amplified that package of burden even further. Marriage entailed too much for me to even attempt it. When the idea of love was already so transient, marriage encompassed insurmountable losses, making the thought alone repelled me.

I honestly did not envision myself as someone to date one single person for a number of years more than what can be counted with a single hand and marry. I even doubted my ability to harbor romantic feelings for another for an extended period of time, especially when the feelings were unrequited. When no further action could be taken, I thought I would just forgive and forget.

***

Even as I lay on my bed, years after that conversation with my sister, after everything that has happened, I still don’t believe there’s just one specific person destined for special other. That person sometimes just simply does not exist, or there is more than one.

So why did his sudden departure make me feel such emptiness and lonesomeness?

***

We began our journey as mere strangers who shared a limited number of mutual friends and acquaintances. During our initial meeting back in that summer before our senior year in high school, we were two awkward introverts who indulged in chips and salsa until we became cousins of chipmunks to avoid mingling with strangers. After the host literally forced us to introduce us to each other, she left us to our own devices, but that created the framework to a relationship that seemed unbreakable to outsiders.

“Introduce yourselves! Gosh, you guys are so awkward,” Patricia, the host of the house party and also my best friend in high school, chirped as she dramatically rolled her eyes and shoved me playfully, although the amount of force she unknowingly used did not even whisper playful.

“What do you expect, Pat? I told you, I’m introverted,” the male raised a dark eyebrow at my friend, to which Patricia responded with yet another eye roll before leaving us two alone at her fire red patio couch. It obviously did not help the situation that Patricia forced us to sit next to each other on the three-seated couch. I scooted awkwardly to the far left end of the cushion before he did the same to the opposite end, only much less noticeably.

 “Um...so…” we hesitated at the same time, causing us to stare silently at one another, and it became the first time we made eye contact. During other times like this with my friends, I usually burst into giggles, but the identical situation with this stranger brewed too much awkwardness, leaving no room for jokes and pink daisies. The fact that his eyes were so enticing and piercing did not help at all. I wandered around in his deep hazel orbs, as I only imagined him to do the same with mine, because neither of us even took another breath or moved a single cell for at least twenty seconds.

I felt embarrassing heat crawling its way up my sun-kissed cheeks, so I shrugged off the uncomfortable feeling in my chest and coughed lightly before finally speaking a word, like a normal human being usually should. “Um, I’m Jen. Nice to meet you, yeah.” Way to end it like a freak, Jen. I shifted uneasily in my seat as I awaited his response, which I was supposed to get, right?

 “Hi, I’m Minho. It’s…very…nice to meet you, too.”

Wow, we’re off to a great start, aren’t we?

A blanket of silence wrapped itself snugly around us before we both chuckled audibly, finally breaking the unwelcomed tension. Minho and I finally restored our eye contact as I observed the bright smile now painted on his lightly tanned features. His face was slimly sculpted, and his nose and cheekbones were quite defined. His lips were somewhat thin yet still plump and defined. His deep brown eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled and laughed, and his perfectly straight, bleached white teeth contrasted charmingly with his dark skin. Minho’s outfit consisting of a black leather snapback, a simple white V-neck showcasing his toned shoulders and defined collar bones, a pair of denim jeans, and a pair of high-top sneakers foiled mine of a loose aqua tank top, ripped jean shorts, and Converses. I had to admit, my heart tingled at the sight before me, but it definitely was not love at first sight.

I still refused to believe that fallacy actually existed.

As the party progressed and the flaming sun crawled its way below the clear horizon, we finally both lost our reluctance to approach each other as well as other unacquainted guests. After more people arrived, I was forced to scoot more to the left, closer to where Minho was seated. It was immensely uncomfortable at first, because I just hate unnecessary bodily contact with anyone. But as time passed, his denim covered thigh against my bare one provided me with an odd sense of warmth that I actually did not mind this time.

In fairytales and dramas, we obviously were supposed to exchange shy smiles with each other throughout the night and immediately fall in love with each other and elope during a midsummer night.

That was obviously not our storyline. There was no love at first sight, if not no love at all. We did not fall in love with each other, yet we could no longer define our relationship.

***