The Perfect Boy

A Stroll in the Park

Days seems to pass ever slowly, especially in regards to how I was feeling about the whole thing with Osaka.  It was getting increasingly more difficult for me to process as a person. I truly understood what I wanted to do. I could discern my true condition and grasp what I needed to do. I could comprehend the situation I was in.  But here I was, utterly confused and in total despair as to what I had to do with Osaka.

It took so long before I caved in to his constant intrusion into my private life.   The last time I tried to shoo him away, I witnessed that single drop of tear that made its way down his cheek.  Yet it apparently did not dissuade him from pursuing what it was he wanted to do with me or to me.

For the life of me and for whatever else reason I might suppress, I reopened myself to him. I thought to myself, if I wanted to get rid of him, better I disclosed to him all the junks that were residing within. So, I tried to wear no masks, I tried to parade none other than my true self, I tried to be an open horror book to him.  This I did month after month.

When I received no rejection, I felt a mixed feeling of relief and yet at the same time a sense of panic. Relief because for the first time in my life, my true self could let himself surface and not be rejected by the person for whom he surfaced. Panic because I could find less and less reasons to send him away so I could come back to being the old merry - scratch that- the old miserable me.

It took me many months before it dawned on me that Osaka was a person with all his insecurities, problems, struggles, inner conflicts, just like me. Today, of all days, he was so delicately trying to invite me for coffee – delicately for the fear of being rejected again – I felt awful for rejecting him for who knew how many times already.

"Hmm . . . I expect your answer would be no, bbutt I ask you anyway, do you want to get a cup of coffee and chat?"

His eyes were telling of his anxiety.  His hands were fidgeting, which quickly put inside his  pockets.  That anxious, timid smile made him more alluring.

So, I said yes.

When we got to the coffee house, I knew something was bothering him. He did speak and tried to strike a conversation.  And I was answering him bluntly and to the point. 

But, eventually tired and no longer wanting to show just a part of me – the bad part of me - to give him reason to leave, I presented that particular part of me that I always knew to be true of myself, the Aspen who cared, who was compassionate and loving.

So, for the first time ever, I asked him about himself and his family. I knew if I ventured this road, there would be no turning back for me, because what always followed after I showed care for someone was my giving full attention to that person for any troubles he might be facing and at the end, I would give him all attention and care, no matter the time, place and effort.

It was just that I wanted someone to love me back.

And so, from opening up about his current struggles eith his family he went on and told me dreadful stories of his past, frightening treatment he received from his family, the struggles with his upbringing and surrounding. How could you believe how someone so pure, so amiable, so exquisite, so refined could arise from those ashes he just described. And for once it was not me who was doing the honest talk, it was him.

"Just spill it if you have anything else to tell me," I told him.

He beamed up to me.  I looked at his complexion.  It was one of zest, enthusiasm and pain mixed into one.   I was immersing myself into those eyes and truly captured the beauty underneath them. 

He was ready for some more story telling.  So, I listened to him more diligently.  This time, not because I had to, not because the nature of me was to do so, but because I really really wanted to. 

This boy was getting to me.  I felt like a pull at my heart string toward him.

So, it took him a total of four honest hours, sitting in two coffee shops and a stroll in the park - the hours that I would never forget in my life, the hours that arose within me a passion to give Osaka all that I could to him – to let me truly understand the person that I was. In-between the minutes that passed within those hours, I felt myself being so truly selfish all this while, treating him like garbage, expecting him to be strong, wanting him to be rid of the care and attention I could give him. It was all but selfless of him to spend those moments in these past few months trying to approach me and letting me know that he would always be there for me no matter what while I was not ready to give myself away to him no matter what.

So, when he left, I was left alone in utter confusion. I was confused because I knew what I wanted to do and yet at the same time I also understood what I needed to do. It was enough, it was time, I thought to myself.  It took me through today, to this very moment, to make that decision that was going to alter my life forever. And I started it by going after him as he was leaving the park.  There, right in front of everyone, not caring what everyone would think, I hugged him to death.  A little later, I pecked his cheek before running away from him like my life was depending on it.  I hoped he was happy with what I did.