Teenage Dream

by Lucy Samb

You/ Darren Criss fanfic. The story is about your life with Darren in high school, college and professional life among friendship,love,fights,comings and goings and how you both go through serious stuff such as bullying,suicide,discrimination and life itself. It starts when you meet Darren, a guy of your school in St. Ignatius College Preparatory who never noticed you, a loser.

52. Book of letters

A/N: Hello beautiful people! How are you today? First off, I'm sorry for updating later than usual! I really couldn't update earlier. Then, I'm glad to inform that today I'll be able to respond your reviews! Now... Announcements!

1- About the chapter: I hope you're ready to read a lot of texts and so little dialogues. But I do hope you like the texts. And I hope you can enjoy the ending. Then, in general, about last chapters… I think you all think February has something weird! Oh god, maybe she is, but maybe not! I made you think every new character is bad! It's interesting, though!

2- About the fanfiction: Guess what? Guess what, guys? It's August 3! You may be thinking... 'Yeah, so what?'. The story goes that on August 3, 2012 one dumb girl started writing one silly story full of drama and cliffhangers. They say the story included one teen guy with dark curly hair and hazel eyes and one misunderstood teen girl whose nickname was pretty weird: Freckles. Who would have such a nickname? They say the story that the dumb girl started writing on August 3, 2012 was called 'Teenage Dream'. Yes! Today, August 3, 2013 it's the anniversary of this story! Who would think that I've been writing this since a year? Who would think that you've been reading this since a year? So, considering this is a special day and as a way to thank you all for having been reading this story for a year, standing all the drama, all the cliffhangers, all the sad and happy things, all the comings and goings, all the ups and downs; I'll give you all some kind of reward: I'll let you ask me something about the story or about what you want, and I'll reply absolutely everything! Sorry, it wasn't so creative, but I wanted to do something and this is the best I could come with. So, happy year, Teenage Dream!

3- As I said, it's August 3, 2013. Today it's the birthday of a lovely reader! I want to wish a very happy birthday full of love and joy to caarolineboeira1. I hope you have a pretty lovely birthday and I hope all your dreams can come true! Lots of hugs and virtual cakes, Caroline!

Those were all the announcements! See? Those were 3 announcements! 3! Everything is 3! Alright, I should stop with my stupid comments! haha. I'll start replying your reviews! This time I have to reply a lot of people and from two chapters, so you'll have to be patient!

Guest 1: Thank you very much! :) But really? Have you read the 50 chapters only in a week? Really? That's very but very impressive! You're a nerd? I'm also a nerd, so we can be nerds together! Thank you a lot for reading this silly story! And just thank you for all your super nice words; if you could see me right now, I'm smiling like a goofball! I hope you like the story and I really but really hope you can keep reading this and you can still like it! I'll try to not disappoint you!

alicegursk: At first, in the review of chapter 50, I was like... No! Alice doesn't want to talk to me! Why? Why is she so mad? I promised a happy ending but not yet, though! And why she wouldn't write? I should have done something really but really bad!... Those were my feelings and thoughts! Then I read your review of chapter 51 and I smiled goofily. I wrote that chapter thinking about you! I wanted to make you feel happy and I'm glad I got it! I tried to make it as sweet as possible, in the middle of all the drama. I wasn't expecting to hear it was perfect and precious, but I'm super happy to know it was for you! About the book... I think you'll have to force me to make it! Real writers will hate me forever and ever if I write a book! And this is like a book... sort of... kinda... Alright. It's a fanfic.

Darren101: First off, welcome! I don't know if you kept reading the story, so I don't know if you're gonna read this... But just in case you do, I want to thank you a lot for reading my silly story! I hope that despite the drama and all the bad things, you can keep reading the story. I always liked happy endings, in any case. And I hope you like the story, despite everything! So, you shouldn't thank me for writing it, I should thank you for reading it! Then, I agree, Freckles really acted like a bitch in that time! But I wanted to write how characters changed in a year; of course she's not so like that, she was just pretending to be rude so no one would notice which her real feelings were. I know it was so sad the goodbye! I remember it was very sad to write it, I wanted to make it very emotional, sad but also cute. Things, someday and somehow, will work out for them. Maybe it'll be a long process, but at the end it'll be worth it! Do you believe in happy endings? Because I do!

MeMi83: I really spent days thinking about the things Brian could do! I wanted to make them cute considering what he wanted to do was to show Freckles she really didn't need a boyfriend to feel special! I'm glad you liked it! And February... Maybe she'll be interested in Darren and yes, let's see how Darren takes it. Would he like it or not? Now, you see, most of you think that February is a bad person or that is connected to W! So maybe it's not a weird feeling! I think this is my fault, thanks to W and all the people involved in high school! haha. I think you're right, maybe I shouldn't rush the end too much! So, I thought that maybe writing longer chapters could help! The last 3 chapters I wrote are way longer! Like, they are almost triple long! Would Freckles be sensing Brian's feelings for her? Maybe in this chapter you'll find it out! And you'll also find out if Brian confesses his feelings to her... I've written a very... weird way of how Freckles gets to know Brian's feelings. I never thought about the inner monologue! It is a good idea, so I think I'll include it in the story at some point! About the poem 'We Learn'... That was a pain in the ass, I swear! I actually read it in Spanish (I don't remember where!) and I translated it. It said it was from a writer called Jorge Luis Borges, but I read several poems by him and I could tell it wasn't from him. Then I googled it and some websites said it was by writer Gabriel García Márquez, and almost all the websites said the poem belonged to Shakespeare; I thought it was pretty odd and I couldn't believe it, because Shakespeare definitely didn't write that way. I couldn't find Veronica Shoffstall; but when you mentioned it, I googled it and yes, it really seems it is an adaptation from her original text 'After a While'. So... Pain in the ass. But it was beautiful and I wanted to include it in the story!

amritsoomal: Poor Brian! haha. Hmm, I won't spoil anything... But maybe I do think they won't be together, they're best friends! About the song... I have a doubt. What song do you want? The one by Bruno Mars or the one by Joe? I already knew the one by Bruno Mars but not the one by Joe; so I wanted to ask you which song is, because it'd be awkward if I put the wrong song! haha. I think that someday I'll write about Darren adopting a baby fat panda! That would be interesting, and cute! Well, I'm writing chapter 60 and I can tell you that you'll get more clues about Joey's hook up! Give February a chance! Maybe she is a good girl! And I must say I loved the way you congratulated me for the 50 chapter! haha, I wouldn't stop laughing! I love the weird! And thank you a lot for the virtual muffin basket! I'm eating all the muffins like a pig! So don't watch me while I eat! Why is your mind wandering places? I want mine to wander places too! Teach me how! Well, now I'll let you read how Brian reaction is! haha.

wujoka: May I say I missed you? Is February part of the W team? Muahaha! We'll see. And is she really friends with Brian? We'll see. And could Brian have told someone his feelings for Freckles? We'll see that. I think 'We'll see that' is all I can say lately! I'm so sorry! I have to take some breaks! But I'll always return! :) At least until the story ends, duh! I tried to install snapchat in my phone but I couldn't! Stupid phone! I have an old phone and maybe I should change it, but I spend all my money in travels! Tell me if that 'Darren Criss' on snapchat kept sending you things! Maybe we can figure out together if it's him or not! If it's not him, well, the person should have clarified it since the beginning because it wouldn't be so cool to play with people like that! Then, about your second review! You have no idea how wide you made me smile! If your goal was to cheer me up, you totally got it! Where do I start? I know, by answering your question so you can know me more! No, I really don't wanna become an author. I love writing, it makes me feel really good, it helps me a lot; but it wasn't always like that. Now, at the end of this year, I'll be an official architect (other fact about me!) and I love architecture so much. I never had the ability to write, I wasn't good with words and expressing emotions with words. I used to write to myself and I never liked what I wrote, maybe it was what people made me believe when I was a teen; but I loved reading and I read since I was very little, because I was raised in a family whose members read a lot; my parents and my half-brothers instilled in me the habit of reading. So, I learned a lot thanks to books. One day I felt the need to write, that was two years ago; I was going through a really bad moment, I was very stressed out and I felt like I was gonna die because of the stress; and I'm like one of those reserved people who don't feel comfortable by telling their problems and sorrows because don't like when people feel pity for them or when they say compassionate words with no meaning; and also because I don't know why I think my problems are not important for others and I think I kinda annoy them (another fact of me!). So, the way I found to release all that stress was to write. And that's when Chain Letters appeared; it was a kind of experiment, actually it was more for myself. And I wasn't sure about publishing it; I never thought I'd ever publish something... But I did. And then Teenage Dream appeared, also as a way to release the stress and invent like a parallel world in which everything could be the way I always dreamed; because when I write I feel like I am in that world, it's crazy, but it's like I live in two worlds, the real and fictional one. That's why I'm always very impressed and blown away when people say nice things about my stories and my words; because I never thought that someone would ever read me, and even less that someone would like what I write. Well, that's kinda my story; sorry for the long explanation, but I thought that maybe you'd like to know it! Now, I loved to know all those facts about you! You always tend to ramble and never quite get to the point; what I consider is something great and not something to be mad at; I mean, it's more entertaining to read something more disorderly because you just write what pops in your mind and it's never boring! You hate the 'post review' button and you think it's rude, something I agree with! I know auto-corrections annoy you as it annoys me as well (stupid and sexy Flanders! I mean, stupid autocorrect! Fact about me: I love The Simpsons!). You can speak Norwegian! Are you from Norway? I bet it must be a difficult language; what do 'noen' and 'Thea' mean? I don't think you're selfish, I understood you meant 'you' instead 'I'; I also tend to confuse words, don't worry! You made me laugh out loud with the 'Nintendo Wii'! That was so funny! I'm glad the words are helpful to extend your vocabulary! I also have to extend my vocabulary, so we can learn together! Did I really set your list so high? Honestly, I never thought I could ever get to do it! I loved your metaphor, and you did not ruin it! I thought it was a creative and funny metaphor, especially when you mentioned mini Darrens and then you said actually Darren because he's so damn short! I don't think your imagination sucks, with the things you said, I actually think you have a lot of imagination and creativity, only that not in a conventional way, that's why maybe 'normal' people don't understand it, which at some point it's something cool if you think about it. Maybe someday we'll see and I'll read to you my fanfiction out loud, only that first I need to practice to speak English! I always thought that the power of the smile is more powerful than any other power! And also books, as you said! There's something special about them, something unique that fill us with happiness; hopefully, more people will read more! Edward Monkton. I never read his poems, I think it's time for me to do it, because what you said made me feel intrigued to read them! So, I'll start doing so! Thank you so much for the suggestion! It was really nice to feel that someone was there, trying to cheer me up; it was really but really nice from you and I want to thank you a lot for that. It really worked! So, all in all, I think we're friends now!

Zahra Ayoub: Well, but it was only one exam, it happens! You'll do it right next time! You're on vacation, how amazing! You do deserve to rest a little for all the effort and hard work. Thank you for much for praying for me! :). My exams went good for me! How's the holy month there? Don't worry if you can't read the chapters, they'll be still here and you need to celebrate the holy month! I guess it's an important month! About the country, I understand. The media tends to distort reality and say it was a military coup and it was violent... When it's truly not. Sometimes I just don't trust the media. The important thing is that now Morsi is not the president anymore and now you'll be able to vote someone better to restore peace and all the matters of the country. Haha, tell your sister hello and tell her that she doesn't have to worry because I'll always come back! I love when sisters say things like those, like you're a nightmare or things like those, it's really funny! My sister always calls me ugly jokingly and we always joke about it. Oh yeah, I'm also looking forward for breakfast in bed! It's been years since the last time I had one, when I was little and sick and my mom did it for me. About Brian... I really don't know if there are guys like him in real life. I think it's really hard to find someone like him; but... Brian is a combination of three male friends I know and it also has some aspects of my personality, so maybe there must be a guy like him in real life! About February... Well, most of you think that she has something suspicious! Maybe she has or maybe not; I think that was my fault because I practically made everybody in high school bad people! You'll know more things about her, only that in other chapters! Wishing you a very nice holy month and best of luck, Zahra!

vicky: Vicky, I missed you! I'm surprised for what you said! You really want Brian and Freckles together? And yes, I think nobody wants them together, well, except from you! And, despite everything, it's a Darren story! But that doesn't mean that Brian and Freckles can't keep having sweet moments together, as a friends! I agree with you, the little things are the things that matter the most and not something expensive. I wanted to show that, so I'm glad you did notice! And I totally had fun writing that part when he tried to put make-up on Freckles! I thought it was a nice gesture and I thought it'd be funny when he panicked, I even pictured the face! And maybe he has a sense of fashion thanks to Mandy, after all, he's Mandy's model! Then about the poems, I'm glad you liked the one Brian wrote; I wasn't sure of adding it on the story, I thought that maybe you'd think it was very sappy! And yes, the book is for Freckles! Now you'll know what it says, or not! And about the article, I do think it's based on him and his way to say 'I love you' to Freckles as you said! Now about February! I like her name too! Maybe she will help Darren to move on and it'd be positive as you mentioned. And don't worry, you're not the only one who has a bad feeling about her! I wonder why everybody suspects of her! Jen will definitely appear again! And maybe she changed a little... She returns in chapter 61! Then, Darren... Maybe he does have feelings for Freckles or maybe that's what he thought only in that moment. I think there will be chapters which will explain how he feels about her! And I enjoyed writing about how his classmates chose him when he was asleep! I think that's a typical joke that people tends to do when they're in college!

Vcriss: haha Darren is jealous of Brian! Let's see how he'd act with him now! Aww! I'm so happy to know you enjoyed Darren's concert! I can imagine how amazing it was! I read how lots of people said it was the best concert ever! I listened to some of his new songs, but that's nothing compared to how great it must have been listening to them live! I heard 'Pheromones' and I must agree with you, that song is super dirty! I was like... Don't tell me he really did write that song! But it's funny! I don't know why, but I think my fave is 'Once upon a time'. Hopefully we'll get the studio version soon! I guess I'd be his fuck buddy too! haha. But that's not gonna happen, so it doesn't matter! I think Darren and Freckles will end up being more than a couple, in the future! And they'll make out and get their 'Happily ever after' someday! haha I'm so cheesy sometimes, right? But I like Nicholas Sparks; I totally love Dear John, A Walk to Remember and of course The Notebook! Maybe you can be an amazing screenwriter! And yes, I think Brian will understand that sometimes people don't love you back; which is sad as you said. It also happened to me, so I know. Ah! Don't worry, we all have that guy we stalk and doesn't even know we exist! I agree, it was really sad to hear about Cory and I agree it's so sad to see that in a matter of years you can go from pot to that terrible drug. Hopefully, someday, those things won't happen anymore! And yes, it was very nice what Darren did! He also always knows how to bring a smile to my face! I think it's because he really inspires happiness with his bright and beautiful smile!

MrsDarrenCriss3: No, of course I did not forget about you! I sent you a PM already, explaining everything!

Gleekof1: Yay! You're back! Yes, the story will continue for a long time! So, your friend is like Brian... Mmm... Big guy! If your friend is tall and well built. Or... cuddly bear or hot stuff or stud! Okay, maybe I'm not so good with nicknames! Thank you so much! Just as you're glad you're getting the chance to read it, I'm glad you're reading it! And I also hope you enjoy it, of course! 'You're doing all write' I can't explain you how much I laughed about this! That really cheered me up! Your words are always very nice and cute! They always bring a wide smile to my face! I hope my words can keep having that effect on you, and if someday I disappoint you just punch me in the face!

Emma: Emma! It's alright, don't apologize! But yes, I did notice! I always notice because I always talk; well except from the last Saturday I updated! Oh, no! Your brother isn't going to NY with you? But well, at least he won't be so far, and you'll be able to visit him and he'll be able to visit you! Maths and Physics? Oh my god! He must be super smart! I was never good at them! It's so good to hear that even if he's popular, funny and good-looking, he's not an ass. Sometimes people like that tend to be self-centered and conceited which is such a shame... Well, at least that happens here. So, it's very nice to know your brother is nice and smart! Dancing abstract? That seems pretty interesting! Maybe you can do both and show them you can dance different things and make it great! Hurt by Christina Aguilera! You have no idea how much I love that song; it's soulful. And if it means something to you, probably it's a good option, because you'll be yourself on stage and I think that's what they might be expecting to see. Trust me, I won't feel pity, on the contrary, I'd try to understand and support you. But it's okay if you don't wanna tell me; but if someday you feel like you need to talk to someone, you know where to find me! See? Finally appeared a girl! Maybe she's the girl for Darren! Then, thank you a lot for you suggestion! God, I feel embarrassed now! Hopefully, no one thought that when I wrote 'sleep' I meant it in a sexual way! I'll keep it in mind! I always like your suggestions to improve my English! That's right, I'll try to find synonyms for 'caress', I don't know so many, so maybe it'd help me to improve my vocabulary. Thank you a lot for your tips! Yes, I heard about Cory! It's really sad and to be honest, I was like 'No, this can't be real'. He was so young and he had a good future ahead. But well, heaven found a new angel, as you said.

eternityforklaine21: I missed the cliffhangers! That's why you'll read another one in this chapter! Thank you! I was trying to find a good moment to include CWM and also a good way to make it... Because it's supposed that they're just friends now, so that was the only idea I had! haha. I agree, P!nk and Kelly Clarkson are amazing artist! And I must say that last night I finished writing a chapter in which I included lots of songs by Kelly Clarkson as you suggested! But you'll have to wait till chapter 60 to read it! You're very welcome, Jodie! I hope more people are reading your story! And by the way, I'm so sorry I couldn't read your last chapter because I was very busy, but next week I'll have more spare time and I'll read it! Don't think I forgot!

nicole: I was starting to wonder where my Draco-Nicole has gone! Now I know that she has been sunbathing in the Caribbean, in Cancun to be more precise and also in Florida. I bet you had a pretty good time there! At least tell me you got me a colorful fish. I don't know why a fish, but a fish... Otherwise, I'll send you with those first years. Come what may! I wanted to write something cute between them, considering they haven't been so close lately! I'll keep in mind your suggestion; I think it could be funny to write about Darren in Freckles' class. You're starting to like the cliffhangers, that's interesting! Maybe I could write more. What do you say? Well, let's see if you like this one! Until next time, my son- reviewer draco-nicole! Hugs and butterfly kisses and... less-than-three!

Potterhead62: Hey! I'm glad you're back! I actually found those words in Spanish and I tried to translate it. I tried to find who the author was to name him/her; but I couldn't find anything; it said it was anonymous. But I wanted to include it on the story because I thought it was nice and good! Yes, I couldn't believe what happened with Cory! But hopefully he will rest in peace! And heaven found a new angel. We need to remember all the good things about him, I think! Thank you very much for you words, really! I still have to learn a lot to be a real writer, but I'm happy to know you like my stories!

Well guys, that was all for today! I'm sending you a giant hug and I wish you a totally awesome week full of mini Darrens fooling around you! (Inspired by wujoka this time!). I hope you enjoy this new chapter and thank you a lot for all of your very kind words! Warm fuzzies and until next time!

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Teenage Dream – Chapter 52 – Book of letters.

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"Brian? What's wrong? Why are you looking at me that way? It's scary." You asked frowning, looking at him who was still looking at you with a terrified face. He didn't answer, apparently he couldn't talk. "Brian! Answer something!" You hurried edgily after a while he remained silent still looking at you that way that was making you feel very uncomfortable.

"What are you doing with that?" Brian asked and his voice trembled.

"I just saw it and caught my attention. You've never mentioned me about this new book you've written." You said frowning looking at him in a very curious way.

"Because that book is very private and you shouldn't have it right now. Leave it, Sunny." Brian demanded with trembling voice, looking fixedly at you, very serious and worried.

"Why? I mean, you always let me read your books and I love doing it. Why wouldn't you want me to have this one?" You asked a bit confused.

"Because it's private!" Brian exclaimed exasperatedly, still with trembling voice.

"Why is it so private if it's a book? What? Is it dedicated to the girl you're in love with?" You asked suspiciously and Brian looked down troubled, he was very disturbed and shaken.

"I don't want to talk about it. Leave the book, it's something private and I don't want you to read it. Leave the book, Sunny." Brian demanded firmly and alarmed, still looking down, troubled and strained.

"Brian, you gotta trust me. We've already talked about this. You promised to be honest with me and to trust me; but you never tell me your private things and you always avoid talking about that girl! It's so unfair!" You exclaimed frowning, feeling frustrated and a bit annoyed.

"There are certain things I cannot share with you, that are part of my intimacy; and that book is one of them. So leave it right now." Brian answered with trembling voice, still avoiding your gaze as you looked at him hurt.

"I hate you when you do this." You said a bit harshly, still feeling hurt.

Brian didn't look at you and he didn't say anything, he just remained looking down with his eyebrows downwards, still feeling disturbed and maybe a bit distressed now. You basically threw the book on the desk and you stood up, feeling very disappointed in him and the way he still couldn't trust you when you trusted him with all your being. He knew about your most private and intimate things and you didn't know a damn shit about him, because he always refused to talk about it, finding lame excuses to do it. Brian remained still and he didn't say anything at all, still avoiding your gaze. This irritated you.

"You and your stupid book can go straight to hell, Brian." You said rudely before walking to the bedroom and banging the door behind you.

You walked to your bed and you practically threw your whole weight in the bed, burying your head in the pillow. You were feeling bad-tempered and irritable; but also very disappointed and resentful because you couldn't believe that after all this time, after all the things shared, after sharing a lot of moments of profound friendly intimacy; Brian still couldn't trust you, or didn't feel comfortable around you, or didn't want to confess deep feelings he was feeling surely because of embarrassment. Why would he be embarrassed anyway? You made a fool of yourself in front of him several times and you were always blundering and doing and saying awkward things. But it was because it was Brian and you could be truly yourself around him and you knew he was never going to judge you. Apparently Brian couldn't do the same with you. Would he think you were going to judge him? What if he wasn't himself while being with you? What if he was never himself while being with you? No, that was absurd because you knew he was different while being with you than while being with other people; he was himself while being with you. But still, he couldn't confess anything about him and this was making you feel like a person of mistrust for him. You were a bit upset and you weren't going to regret the way you treated him because somehow he needed to understand this was hurting you. After a really long time you were locked in the bedroom with the lights off, watching the stars Brian painted all around, you heard steps coming closer. Surely it was Brian. You turned on your side to look at the starry wall and give your back to the space between your bed and Brian's bed. You heard how Brian opened the door and he didn't even turn on the lights; he walked directly to the nightstand and then you heard the sound of the door of the closet opening and then closing. You didn't hear anything else, but you knew that Brian was still there and he was probably looking at you. But you weren't going to talk to him, right now you weren't in mood to hear another of his lame excuses about why he couldn't talk to you about that girl or whatever that his love life involved.

"I won't talk to you, Brian. So if you're here for that, you're already warned." You said a bit harshly.

"I know." Brian answered after a long time of profound silence. "I came here only to take a hoodie. I just wanted to let you know that I'm going for a walk and I don't know what time I'll come back. So feel free to have dinner without me. I think there are meatballs in the refrigerator, so maybe you could eat them with spaghetti." Brian said and you didn't even answer. "Bye, Sunny."

After Brian said this, he left the bedroom and closed the door. You didn't even greet him because you knew he wasn't going to go for a walk. Who would want to go for a walk this late in the night alone? No one. He was doing this only for the purpose of making you go outside the bedroom, so he'd take you by the arm, force you to sit on the couch and start explaining lame excuses. But after a while, you heard the front door opening and then closing as steps started to walk away from your room until you couldn't hear anything at all. Did he really go away?

"Brian?" You asked loudly to check if he was still there. But he didn't answer and you couldn't hear any sound. "Brian, come on! I'm not stupid; I know you're still here." You yelled but no one answered. "Brian, come here!" You yelled again, but he didn't answer and no sound came from your room. "He really left. I can't believe he has done it for real!" You exclaimed loudly in the lonely room.

You sat leg-crossed on the bed with your arms crossed and you huffed, still in the dark bedroom. Suddenly you felt very tempted to go to Brian's desk, take his book and start reading it without permission on the sly, now that Brian was gone. After all, he mentioned about having dinner alone, so it meant he was going for a really long walk. Maybe you were going to have the time to read at least one chapter. But it was very wrong, Brian didn't want it and then you were going to feel guilty and that feeling of guilty was going to gnaw away at the back of your mind. But you wanted to read it, to know if it talked about the girl he was in love with, to know what kind of things he could have written under that interesting title and after that captivating prologue; mostly you wanted to read it because you weren't allowed to do it and always, for some damn reason, you were tempted when it came to things that weren't allowed. You didn't know what was on Brian's mind to have left the room while the book was still here and he knew that probably you were going to read it. Or maybe he brought the book with him; yes, he surely brought the book with him, he was a clever person. Anyway, you needed to give it a try. You turned on the light of the nightstand. You didn't even have to move. The book Brian has written was right there on the nightstand next to a note. You looked at it and you felt a bit guilty. Damn, maybe you should try to change your attitude. Whenever you were angry, Brian was always the first one apologizing, even if you got angry for a very silly thing and even if it wasn't his fault. And you always treated him really bad when you were angry, maybe because you knew he was going to apologize very quickly because he couldn't stand being distant with you. And he always ended up doing the things you wanted. It was unfair; he shouldn't be so nice sometimes; he should and had all the rights to remain distant and upset with you whenever you acted wrong with him like the way you recently acted. Because, after all, you told him you hated what he was doing and you even insulted him and his work; only because you weren't allowed to read something you wanted. Sometimes you should just respect when someone didn't want to share certain thing; after all, everybody has secrets. But anyway you took the note and read it.

"Well, you might think this is stupid, but I really can't be here if you decide to read my book; so if you're reading this, surely I'm still walking out there. Yes, I'd admit it and say I'm ashamed. I'm not ashamed of what I wrote, but I'm ashamed of being there while you read it because this is a book in which I wrote down most of my feelings; and you already know how I am when it comes to express my feelings; I can't do it with the same naturalness and simplicity than you. I'm working on that, but I still can't get there. Yet, I think you deserve to know how I am feeling; because, as you said, this isn't fair. It isn't fair that you always tell me everything about you and I never tell you anything about me. It's not because I don't trust you, it's not because I don't want to, it's not because I want to hide you things; it's because I have a problem that I've always had since my mom abandoned me. To fully understand me, I think you should first know this little story and if I'm doing this through a stupid note, it's because I can't find any other way to feel comfortable enough to open up myself since it's been years I'm like this, always keeping my deepest feelings inside. As I said it, I'm working on it. When my mom abandoned me and my dad, I was confused and sad; I was only eight and my dad already had his Parkinson's disease. Yes, I was eight but I wasn't fool enough not to understand that my mom abandoned me because she didn't care about me and she simply never wanted to have me; with time I found out that she wanted to abort me and my dad convinced her not to do it. I didn't know it by that time; but I knew she didn't love me and I knew that by being sad my dad's disease was getting worse, because he was stressed and depressed because I was still sad while he was trying his best to take up the father and mother's role without showing he was devastated because my mother also abandoned him and he loved her. Every time I was sad, my dad was devastated. Since that time I realized that showing my deepest feelings only caused illness and desolation to other people, especially to the loved ones, and I didn't want it. Since that time I never could open up myself when it comes to show my deepest feelings and secrets. This is why I want to apologize to you. You see, it's not your fault, it's not that I don't trust you; on the contrary, I trust you so much and you're the only person I trust this much, for this reason I showed you so many private things and I told you things that I thought I'd never tell anyone, like my dad's health situation. This all is my fault and this is why I want to apologize; it's my fault and it's a problem I've been carrying since my mother abandoned me, that is since 12 years. That's why is so hard for me to tell you my feelings and why is so hard for me to change it. 12 years is a lot of years, it's like a part of me that has been there like forever. And I hate it, but it's really hard to change; but I swear I'm trying. I don't want you to think that I feel forced to do this; I don't want you to feel guilty, because I know you pretty well to assume you're feeling guilty right now. Please, don't feel like that. Before reading my book, I want to explain you some things I think you should know. I have never planned you to find this book and I have never wanted it; that's why I reacted the way I did. I was terrified by the fact you found it; I was nervous, disturbed and frightened because I knew you were going to ask about it, I knew you were going to want to read it. And I didn't want you to read it because this book is a special book; it's more like a sort of what you girls call a diary or journal. I am, obviously, the main character and everything is written in first person; everything is written from my point of view. It's not a story, it's not an essay, it's not an article, it's not an autobiography, it's not a documentary; all you'll read are my feelings written down in a bunch of letters, which are the different chapters, directed to a certain person, a real person. That person is the girl I'm in love with, just as you wondered. I know you'd want to know who the girl is; but you won't find her name in the book. I haven't mentioned her name. I know that after reading the book you'll be even more intrigued to know who the girl is. And I'm so sorry, Sunny, I really am; but I can't tell you. I still need time to restore myself and change myself and this problem I have before telling you, before confessing who the person I love is. Someday I'll tell you; but I need time. I hope you can understand me. Trust me when I tell you that the last thing I want is to disappoint you; because I've looked into your eyes before you locked in the bedroom, and all I could see was a huge disappointment, I've got to see your hurt eyes; and that killed me because I knew it was my fault. And the last thing I want is to hurt the one person who is helping me to change for better; the one person who doesn't care how screwed I am, how poor I look and I am, how reserved I am, because she will love me anyway without judging me, without discriminate against me; the one person who is my biggest support and is always there for me, even if she doesn't know it. When I said you're special to me, I really meant it. And only because you're special to me and I really want you to believe it, I left the book I wrote right next to this note that ended up being a letter. The book isn't finished, but I want you to read it. When you finish reading it and when I come back, please, I don't want to talk about it; because I still can't talk about that. Maybe I'm a coward and you're in all your rights to call me that, because I am; I am a weak person. But read it, I want you to know how I feel and maybe this is the only way I can show you how I feel. I'm sorry for the way I treated you, I'm sorry for disappointing you, I'm sorry because I'm a coward who couldn't tell you this in person and had to do it through a note, and mostly I'm sorry because I failed you as a best friend. But you are and you'll always be special to me, only that maybe I can't show you it the way you expect. Brian."

When you finished reading Brian's note, you were already in tears, sobbing in silence. He definitely shouldn't be this considered, nice and softhearted person with you. Oh damn. Everything you've ever thought about him; all of your lame theories of why he never told you anything; every feeling you've felt when he avoided going too deep in a conversation about him; now it all seemed to be wrong, because there was a logical explanation about it, and none of what you've ever thought was even close. Now you could understand him and you were feeling terrible because you never realized that something like that was happening to him, because you treated him in a wrong way. And crap! You've made him feel as though he has failed you as a best friend when all the time he was doing extraordinary things that maybe nobody else would do for you. And the things he said about what you meant to him were way too touching; you didn't even know you meant that much to him. And of course he wasn't a coward, now you'd never think that about him, not after knowing why he couldn't open up himself for what happened to him. You wiped away your tears and you looked at the book. Now you were going to feel as a terrible person for wanting to read it, because it was something very private for him; it was going to be like intrude in his privacy that was hard for him to tell. But he said he wanted you to read it; he said he wanted you to know how he was feeling. So you grabbed the book and opened it. You read the prologue again and then you started reading the first chapter.

"Letter number 1: You're important to me.

I wish I could have met everyone you know. I wish I could have been there to hear everything everyone ever said to you, from the grandiose proclamations to the offhanded commentary. I wish I could have written it all down for later speculation, saved it somewhere I'd have been able to reference whenever needed. Then, at least, I'd know who told you. I'd know if it was one person or a hundred, a school bully or a past love who wanted to hurt you one last time before you went your separate ways. Because someone told you, convinced you, even, that you are not important.

You apologize for things which are not your fault, even for things which hurt no one. You'll bump into a table and mutter that you're sorry to have hurt it, you'll excuse yourself. If you happened to cross a stream of particularly rude passerby, you'd hold the door open for hours on end, never entering the building yourself. There's a part of you which seems embarrassed to take up space, as though you don't deserve the things you touch, the air you breathe, the chairs you sit on. You feel as though there is always a way to be more accommodating, less of an intrusion. But you're not intruding, you know. You never are. There's a way you move, a way you take up your space in this world that makes me wish I could be more like you. I feel boisterous, even occasionally oppressive. You're always kind, always humble, always so deserving of being there.

We're undeserving. It's we who are graced by your presence, and your generosity. You feel as though you need to give more to this world to earn your keep, that you being a kind person is somehow not enough, but that's ridiculous. It seems that you're just one of those rare, beautiful people who err a bit on the shy side, who assume the best in people, and who always move just slightly to the side of the stage so as not to compete for the spotlight. But you should have the spotlight, it should be turned to you. Its glow should cradle your face, and there should be a round of eager applause for you being here. When you step into a coffee shop, or a party, or a crowded commuter bus, I'm glad you're there.

There are those among us who will be crippled by our delusions of importance, who tend to absorb the room as we walk in and push the furniture to the sides so as to better accommodate our presence. But there are also those who feel, often from being unjustly led to believe as much at some point in early life, that they have no importance. They feel that they're a burden of some kind, and are willing to accept being treated as a bit of relatively drab set decoration. You can see in their eyes that they nearly flinch with apology at the end of declarative statements, that their opinions are always tempered in a bit of empathetic softness. They're always doing on behalf of others, putting a million kinds of happiness before their own.

But you are important. You are important in a way that many people will never acknowledge, because they're too consumed with their image in the mirror or their voice on a recording to notice that they share the world with people around them. But you are important because you're good, because you look at your surroundings with tenderness and understanding. You don't step on flowers when you walk, you allow a housepet to come to your hand instead of roughly insisting on your touch, you leave messages and wait for people to call you back at their convenience. You treat people with respect, and so rarely ask it for yourself. But you should. Because you matter. You matter to me, you matter to the man you held the elevator for, and you matter to the friend you listened to while they unloaded the problems the world had put on them. You are more important than you'll ever know, and never let anyone tell you that your economy of words is a stinginess of character. You're overflowing with love, and I can see it from a mile away."

That was truly beautiful. Whoever that girl Brian loved was, it was a lucky girl and Brian definitely loved her. You've never read such wonderful words written for a girl in a very simple way, without pretentious words; just simple words and simple facts which showed true love and true caring. And whoever this girl was, it seemed to be a nice girl, a warm-hearted girl; for sure worthy of Brian's love. That was your biggest fear: that Brian could be in love with a girl who wasn't good enough for him. You always thought that it could be Brian's case because for some reason he never dared to tell the girl he was in love with her. But fortunately it wasn't like that. Maybe Brian was afraid to tell the girl that he was in love with her because she was way too much of a good person to ruin something he wasn't sure yet. It was impressive and particularly funny the way Brian could be a very sensitive person deep in his heart; because he was like this huge and toned guy who seemed to be a badass, so you'd never imagine that behind that imposing body could be hiding a sensitive and tenderhearted guy. Now you were eager to read the second chapter, so you turned the page.

"Letter number 2: The way I am around you.

With you, I forget things. Not big things, of course, but I let many things slip through my fingers unnoticed. I'd have thought it impossible before I met you to let go of the self-imposed anxiousness which used to color my nights spent staring at the ceiling. My life often feels so full of unimportant matters and obligations which talk at me from every angle, noises which somehow quiet into a dull hum when we're together. I know that it's not a universal positive to be rendered so uncritical, so unaffected by the outside world, when you're with someone, but I am. I tend to forget the minor college stress that was nagging at the back of my head all morning, following me around my lunch with a friend, whispering in my ear that I have so much left to do; with you, it's silent.

And I'm not one to usually love silence, either. In everyday conversation, I'm often overwhelmed with the desire to fill awkward silences and spark conversations. Even if the thoughts are mundane, I'm glad to be filled with them, because it'll mean that I don't live with a kind of echoing quietness in my own head. But with you, the silence is never awkward. It's never something forced upon me by the overwrought rules of polite conversation. The silence, both internal and in our interactions, is one of calm, of peaceful conviction and satisfaction. I'm reminded, in those warmly quiet moments, of dogs lying in the sunlight with their belly facing the window. All day, they've been running. All day, all they long to do is make noise and play and be seen. But when the sun hits them just right and surrounds them on all sides with that hushed kind of comfort, they've never been happier to be still.

With you, I feel a kind of confidence that I used to imagine was only possessed by those incredibly cool, very popular guys in high school. You know, the ones that used to walk down the hallway and seem to be at once loved and loathed by everyone they crossed paths with. To me, their ability to carry themselves with such assuredness and poise was always foreign. Now I understand what it feels like to be loved, to be admired. Perhaps it isn't coming from a million directions at once, but I don't need it. In fact, I'm not even sure it's your gaze which renders me so full of life and certainty. It's perhaps the version of me that I'm able to see in your eyes. They're two tiny reflecting pools in which I'm the person I've always wanted to be, smart and worthy of being loved.

It's something that I've borrowed, something I take with me when I go to my courses, or walk to the corner to pick up a coffee jar. While I know that the paintings of one another we've constructed in our own minds are perhaps too forgiving, too fuzzy around the flaws, I see no reason to look for a clearer picture. If only we were all capable of seeing each other the way the person we love sees us, the way we must look on a Sunday morning while walking in with breakfast in bed. Your compliments don't fall on deaf ears; they're actively creating a portrait that I'm trying to commit to memory.

With you, I'm generous. I want to be this way because I understand it's the right thing and I've learned to extract more joy from the act of giving than of receiving. Few things make me happier than seeing your face light up with something I've done for you: a surprise, a gift, a kind word when it's needed most. I don't think that you need these things to live your life, but there's no reason we should have to. If life can be made more beautiful with generosity, and care, and affection, there's no reason to stifle it or keep it in some confused concept of moderation. With generosity, there can always be more.

I know that all of these things make me better. And I know that I'm better when I'm around you, and that the real goal is to learn how to apply these lessons and desires and streaks of unabashed confidence to every aspect of my life. I should be just as generous with friends, just as confident at college, just as forgiving of my daily stresses as I am when you're with me. Because that, I think, is the greatest gift we can ever give another person: To see that life can be lived more beautifully and more honestly, and that you don't even need to be in love with me to do it."

You smiled warmly when you finished reading it. Geez, this was completely sweet. Who could have such effect on him? You wished you could know to thank that girl who was making him feel such in a great way. It was for sure a girl he met at college, because he mentioned a lot about college. Maybe she was a classmate because apparently he used to spend lot of time with the girl but you've never seen him with a girl. So yes, this was the most certain option; because you actually didn't know with whom he used to spend time with when he was attending his courses. Maybe you weren't going to meet the girl any soon, but you already liked her for the simple fact she was making him feel in a very good way. You thought that maybe, in the future, that girl and you could be good friends and that would be amazing. Eagerly, you read the third chapter.

"Letter number 3: I can't tell you.

I can write about you in every page or book except the one you might read; well, even then I might write about it, but I'd dance around your name like a fire whose warmth I want to feel without quite being burned. Yes, if you're wondering, it's about you. That open letter, that song lyric, that wink and nod in your direction that is not quite explicit enough to call me out on directly. I want you to see my words and be motivated enough in them to take the first step yourself because, no matter how much I want to burst into your life with the truth of exactly how I feel about you, I know that I'm not going to.

You'd likely be upset if you knew how much I thought of you, how much what you're doing with your life factors into my daily routine. The world tells us we're supposed to live in cold, disparate camps of 'together' and 'separate'. But what about those who fall into neither category? No, we're not together. No, there's no part of you that I can lay claim to and nothing I am within my rights to demand, but are we really separate? Is the degree to which you've touched my life unimportant because it hasn't been sealed with some kind of title?

And 'I miss you'; is that only appropriate to someone who has left, someone you imagine will come back or at least longs to do so? What about the people who have never fully entered our lives? Are we allowed to miss someone whose presence we sensed in our very bones, someone every fiber of our body told us we should have reached out to but did not? Is there an acceptable way to phrase 'a nostalgia for something that never quite happened', or is that a sentiment which is relegated to the pathetic spectators of life?

We praise honesty the way we praise kindness, and a lie of omission is still a lie. So I suppose, by that definition, I'm lying to you each day that passes in which I don't say 'I think about you, I wish I could talk to you, I wish my fear was something I could put aside and forget for even a moment'. I don't mean to lie, you know. In a perfect world, I'd be the kind of person who feels something with great conviction and acts upon it with unerring focus, who is sure of themselves in a way that radiates confidence and puts others at ease. If I were this kind of person, I'd have come to you so long ago. I'd have told you everything I really felt.

Yes, even about that one night where I told you I was going to answer everything you wanted to know and then let you go to bed with a 'Not now, please'. You, maybe, and I both know that what I wanted to say was 'Every time I see you from across the room and don't talk to you, it's a punch in the stomach which reminds me just how much of a coward I can be'.

But I have long since accepted that I'm a coward of this nature, that I'm happy to write letters to myself instead of sit down with the one person who needs to listen. I'll listen to music which at once dulls the more acute pains of not having the courage to be honest with you and allows me to imagine the life I could have if I did. I'll lie awake some nights, looking at your name, only a text message away. I'll hover over your name and consider writing you, finally getting everything out that I feel dirty for not having said, and accept that even a flat 'no' is preferable to hanging suspended in the unknown. But then I won't, and I'll pretend as though it never crossed my mind. And you'll ask me how I am and look at me as though you really want to know, and I'll say 'I am fine'."

Well, here came the part of Brian being afraid of telling the girl he was in love with her. He called himself a coward, but all you could see now was that he was too in love with her that he preferred to stay like the way he was than getting a flat 'no' as a response as he said. You still couldn't get so much why he'd be so confused and afraid if he was sure that his feelings for her were real. The fear of rejection; he told you that. And yes, it's a fear that every human being has, but what if the girl felt the same for him? It was very complicated what was going on Brian's mind. And yes, you've seen him lying awake some nights; but you always thought it was because he was concerned about college, finding a job and his dad's illness; you never thought that the girl was another of his reasons. And it was pretty weird because at some part of the letter he mentioned something that made you remind you a moment you've also experienced with him when you were at the Virgin Islands. Maybe the girl also demanded him to be honest with her and Brian also answered 'Not now, please'. Maybe the girl still didn't know why he couldn't open up himself. Ah! You didn't even know that Brian could feel so unsure with little confidence. Anyway, you turned the page to read the fourth chapter.

"Letter number 4: Just tell me how you feel.

While it's true that I've constructed entire worlds of what you might be thinking, alternate universes in which I control the passage of time and the sentiments of others like puppets on a string, I now only want the truth. While it's pleasant to build a fantasy, to tend to it as one might a beloved garden, it's exhausting when continually compared to the barren silence of reality. Life makes a mockery of everything that happens in my mind, reminds me how little I am actually in command. In my world, you tell me everything I want to hear, mirror every sentiment I'm constantly on the verge of shouting at the top of my lungs when we carry on an otherwise stilted conversation. But we are not in my world.

Living in doubt can be addictive; it can give a sense of burning hopefulness that, as long as it's not extinguished completely, can sustain someone for years on end. Sure, you'll only be living a half-life of possibility and delayed gratification, but you'll be alive. For someone in the throes of a heady relationship with doubt, almost anything is worth keeping the possibility alive. To know would bring closure and, though it could be positive, it risks bringing an end to the fantasies you've been entertaining for so long. Why take the risk, the plunge, when you could remain perfectly neutral in limbo for eternity?

At a certain point, the desire to find out begins to burn away at the edges of your soft, cushy cloud of doubt. You've surrounded yourself in the warm, familiar, unchallenging fluff of not knowing, but such complacency can't sustain the human spirit. You may be able to drag yourself out for years without asking, but eventually the need for certainty comes to us all. The questions start coming at you from all sides, ringing in your ears, egging you on, to finally pick yourself up and confront reality. For so long, I waited. I was happy to be ignorant, able to be in love with the possibility of you, if not you as a whole. It was safer that way, less demanding, less threatening. Even if there was no reward, there was no risk.

The time has come, though, where I have put aside my fantasies. I've packed them all up neatly and kissed them goodnight for the last time, said no even when they were clinging to the hem of my jeans. It simply isn't healthy to live in a world where I don't know where I stand, where I'm constantly running the risk of making a fool of myself. I want to hear what you have to say, even if a small part of me doesn't. It could be that I've been living in denial for so long and it was painfully obvious to everyone but me, but that's something that I've always, in some way, suspected.

So tell me. Even if the words splash across my face like acid, burning my skin with their finality; I want to feel them. I want to bathe in rejection, if rejection is what awaits me. Yes, I may look at the ground while you talk to me, I may be unable to accept everything that is falling down around me eye-to-eye. But I'll be taking it in, finally becoming big enough to live in reality. I'd choose a reality of disappointment than a life of insecurity. Being unsure is cheap, it costs nothing, it puts nothing on the table. You deserve my whole self out there, naked, unafraid of the repercussions. And even if your words are a soft, embarrassed 'cover yourself up', I want to hear them.

There is, of course, the chance that you may feel the same way I do, the way I've always imagined you have. We could ride off into some technicolor sunset of perfectly matched sentiments and open, continual communication. I may never doubt again, it could be perfect. But I won't get myself too wrapped up in the possibility, even if it's the most beautiful one I can imagine. Because I know what it feels like to cling, white-knuckled, onto hope, and I'm ready to open my hands."

Hold on, wait a minute... Was Brian finally willing to take the risk of telling the girl he was in love with her? Taking the risk of the possibility of being rejected? That was great. It was great that he was willing to stop the fantasy he made up in his mind with the girl to turn it into a reality. Please, Brian needed to do it. The girl needed to read this. If Brian didn't dare to admit his feelings, he could perfectly give her this book so she could read it and understand all that Brian was feeling for her. You were sure that the girl couldn't reject him after reading all of those wonderful words. Brian had such an astounding way to show his feelings in a very tender and sincere way through words; therefore there was no way the girl could reject him. Suddenly you filled in happiness by this thought. The most you wanted was to see Brian happy with this girl who was surely deserving of his love. You turned the page to read the fifth chapter, now feeling very cheery.

"Letter number 5: When they don't love you back.

There's a strange feeling that sometimes overcomes us when we're reaching out to someone, this feeling of acute embarrassment. 'Are we bothering them?' we ask ourselves, and almost wanting to apologize for even sending a message in the first place. It's as though our very presence in their lives is a nuisance, and our efforts to connect as friends or lovers is one that only complicates things for them. We want to say, 'I'm sorry that I want to talk to you, it's weird and I should probably stop'.

The thing is, you can feel when you're bothering someone. It's not difficult to tell when you're the one who is always reaching out, always initiating contact, always starting the conversation. You realize in a way that is at once terribly humiliating and almost masochistically sweet that you're the one chasing after them. When they grant you with their reciprocity, with their attention; nothing feels better. But most times you're left sending a message that you immediately regret, because you know that it only puts one more tally-mark in the 'you need them, and not the other way around' column.

It's hard to explain the feeling of disappointment exactly, but it's mostly directed towards yourself. You can tell when you send them a good morning text message, or mail them a gift, or take the time to do something for them that isn't going to be reciprocated. Hell, it may not even be noticed. But you can't stop yourself.

It's just a sad, universal truth that there are people we love a lot who don't really love us back. Whether platonic or romantic there are always going to be these uneven relationships in which one person is constantly left feeling as though their emotions and their desires are a mild irritant. And there are going to be lovers with whom we long to construct an entire relationship, but with whom we'll always feel stuck at the frustrating 'beginner phase' where no exchanges go beyond the superficial. It just happens.

The most difficult thing, it seems, is being able to admit when your love is going nowhere. Speaking personally, I've watched as more than one friendship proved themselves to be entirely one-sided, when my attempts to connect with the person, were proving increasingly pathetic. I was just way more into them than they were to me, and there's always a certain amount of pain in admitting that. You don't want to confront this person and tell them, 'Hey, look at all of these nice things I do and efforts I make for you, and you don't do any of these things in return', because it's a sad thing to do.

It's sad because the truth is that they don't owe you their friendship or their love. They don't owe you the same kind of relationship you desire from them. You can't insist, through repeated action, that someone is now indebted to you because you've proven that you're worth of something. We make the choice to keep giving our attention and love to someone who has clearly demonstrated that they don't want it, and it's always their choice to make if they one day decide they want to start reciprocating.

But to break the cycle and force yourself to stop initiating contact, to stop making effort, and to stop caring about their response; that is much harder. That means admitting that you've lost a battle you didn't even want to acknowledge you were fighting. But when we're trying to get someone to love us back the way we do, it's always a battle. And it's one we're almost always guaranteed to lose."

What the hell has happened to Brian right there? Everything was going so well, and then that. Why would he change his mind so abruptly? What could have happened to him? What if he told the girl and she rejected him? No, if it was that, he'd surely have mentioned something about rejection; but he mentioned something about not reciprocating. Something had happened for sure; maybe a talk he had with the girl in which he realized she didn't love him back the way he did. No, Brian being rejected couldn't be one of the options; you couldn't stand the fact of picturing someone rejecting a person like him. Damn, what happened with all the positivism of the fourth letter? Now in this fifth letter, Brian seemed to be distressed if not mild upset. Your turned the page to read the sixth chapter, but there wasn't anything else written. The fifth chapter was the last one, so maybe this was the latest feeling he had about the girl, maybe this happened recently. But well, Brian mentioned in his note that the book wasn't finished, maybe something new has happened. Maybe something good has happened, hopefully. You really wanted that the thing of Brian with this girl could work out. You've never witnessed such a devoted love of a guy for a girl. He was truly hopelessly devoted to that girl and you just wanted the girl could feel the same way than he did. Now you knew Brian didn't want to talk about this by the time he returned; but you couldn't just leave it there. You weren't going to ask anything and you weren't going to insist him to tell you who the girl was, because you respected him. But you needed to do something; so you grabbed a pen and a paper and you started to write something for him, knowing that through words was one of the few ways he could feel comfortable.

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BRIAN'S POV

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There I was, sitting alone on a bench in the empty campus on a Friday night. There she was, reading alone the book I started writing at the beginning of this term. A book that she wasn't supposed to find, a book she wasn't supposed to read; because it was a book about her, utterly about her. It was a cold dark night and the street lighting was illuminating the path that led from the building where our room was to the bus stop to go to downtown. Nobody was around because it was Friday night and everybody was already at downtown; but I was there alone. As a bitter irony, a couple walked through the path to go to the bus stop. And I was alone thinking about her while she was reading my book, my private book. There were so many things about her, there was involved all of my feelings I've never dared to show her. And now she was reading them, and I only wished she wouldn't notice that the entire book was directed to her. That's why I ran away as the coward I was; that's why I couldn't be there while she was reading the book, because the pain in my chest was going to kill me and my head was going to explode because of the nervousness of being completely soul-naked in front of her. Hopefully she wouldn't read in between the lines. Hopefully she wouldn't find out she was the girl I was in love with. I still wasn't ready to be rejected in person; even if I wrote that I was; all of what happened to us lately proved me that she definitely didn't love me back the way I did, so I was no longer ready to hear her saying 'I'm sorry, but I don't love you back'. I knew she didn't love me back; but I wasn't ready to hear that. I wanted her to read my book, though; as contradictory as it might sound. She deserved to know what was happening to me and how I was feeling because she was right when she mentioned this was unfair. The note I wrote to her was written in all honesty. What would she be thinking about me now? Maybe that I was a pathetic coward guy, who I certainly was. But I didn't want her to see me as that guy. I only wished she could look at me the way she used to look at Darren. Every day it was being harder for me to advise her about Darren, and I didn't like this because I wasn't supposed to feel like this, I just wanted to see her happy; whatever I wanted or not, it didn't matter as long as she was happy. Anyway, I knew that was an utter fantasy which was far from reality. Let's face it, why would a girl as perfect as she was want to be with a pathetic guy who didn't have a penny to his name like me? My gaze focused on a chewing gum wrapper that was on the ground; a chewing gum wrapper that looked exactly like the one she gave me one special time when we shared for the first time a secret. I let myself wrap in a fantasy while looking at the chewing gum wrapper.

I stood up thinking that it was time to come back to the room. Part of me was wishing that she wouldn't have noticed that she was the girl; but I had to admit that the other part of me was wishing that she would have noticed it. If she found it out, the 95 percent of me was sure that she was going to reject me and tell me that she wanted to be only friends; the other 5 percent was thinking that I had the possibility that she could accept me. The 100 percent of me was wishing to hear her saying she loved me back. I walked slowly to try to feel less nervous and act naturally. But I was freaking out. This could be a crucial moment for our relationship of years of strong bond as friends. I reached the front door of our room and I remained still there, hesitating about whether I should or should not enter the room. I couldn't hear any kind of sound and this abysmal silence was making me feel almost paranoically nervous, in which all I could hear was the annoying voice in my mind telling me repeatedly that I was about to be rejected by the person I loved the most in my entire insignificant life. But I did open the door. She wasn't there. I walked to the bedroom and it was also empty, but I could see my book on her bed. She read it. I walked to her empty bed and I grabbed my book. Nothing seemed to be unusual, there were no signs that something unexpected was going to happen, everything was normal. I opened the book and I didn't find anything new. It was just the book I wrote with nothing new. I thought it was like that until I reached the last part I wrote. The last I wrote was 'But when we're trying to get someone to love us back the way we do, it's always a battle. And it's one we're almost always guaranteed to lose'. But right away, she added something that made my heart skip a beat. She wrote 'Unless the person you love loves you back and you aren't aware of it. In that case, that person is willing to fight the battle with you, and it's one we're guaranteed to win". While I was still in shock, seeing what she added, I felt arms wrapping around my waist. I recognized who it was because of the softness of her skin, because of the warmth of her body, because of the addictive smell. It was her. I slowly turned around to see her beautiful eyes looking at me with such fondness I've never seen before. I placed one hand on her cheek to fondle it with my thumb as we kept staring into each other's eyes. This was a connection we've never had before, a very intense connection of pure fondness that I've always longed. She placed one hand on the back of my head and started stroking my hair in such smooth way that I thought this was the most relaxing and pleasant feeling I've ever felt. She placed her other hand on my cheek and her fingers brushed my cheek affectionately, her warm touch made me shiver in thrill. I stared her eyes and I got lost in them, thinking that I'd love to live in this precise moment forever and nothing would ever be more perfect than seeing myself in her eyes; her eyes full of love were only looking at me. Our lips touched very gently and melted, turning our lips into a very soft and tender kiss. I didn't know if I was the one who started kissing her or vice versa; it really didn't matter because we both were now kissing each other, because we both wanted it and felt it. I could notice it by the way she was kissing me, a way that no other girl has ever kissed me. Through her kiss I could notice she cared about me; she loved me back. And nothing could feel better than knowing that the person I loved with all my being since years loved me back as I've always dreamed of. 'I'm head over heels in love with you, Brian.' She whispered in front of my lips as I felt how all of my fears vanished to be replaced with absolute joy. She loved me back the way I did.

The sound of laughter from a couple kissing made me realize that I was fantasizing with her one more time when I promised not to do this again. I was still sitting alone on that bench in this cold night and she wasn't with me. I saw the couple walking away from me holding hands and kissing and I noticed how lonely I was and how I was never going to get that with the person I loved. I was alone, no one was near me, and no one could see me; so I didn't forbid myself to mourn in silence all this pain I was feeling. The silently mourn became into a disconsolate and stricken mourn of knowing that all I wanted to get from the person I loved was and will always be a fantasy, never more. Why did I have to fall in love with an unrequited person? Now, while crying disconsolately, I started inhaling and exhaling, making a series of weird sounds that were the consequence of having been holding back this pain of being in love with an unrequited person for so long, a pain that needed to be released somehow and that couldn't be released while she was around. I just wanted to stop feeling; I wished I couldn't feel anything at all.

"I know what kind of crying that is." I suddenly heard a voice of a woman.

It made me jump in fear because I thought I was completely alone. I quickly turned my face to wipe away my tears and, after I got it, I looked at the direction from where the voice came. I saw an adult woman in her forties, looking fixedly at me with a pair of bright green eyes, smiling slightly. I frowned when I saw that woman. I really wasn't in mood to talk to a stranger.

"The crying of an unrequited love. Ah! Tell me about that." The woman sighed almost in a dreamy way and she sat next to me. I quickly moved away from her, still looking at her frowning. "Don't worry, I don't bite and I'm too old and weak to do something bad to you." The woman said laughing softly but I remained serious, looking at her in suspicion. "I can look into your eyes and guess that you're in love with a very special girl; but sadly the girl doesn't love you back, or at least that is what you think. Because, judging by your crying, I can tell that you've never dared to admit your real feelings in front of her. Therefore you're feeling this pressure in your chest that is painful, as though your heart is being stabbed by billions of sharp knives; an emotional pain that results in physical tears. Tears of which you feel ashamed; but you should not because it is okay to cry sometimes. Even the strongest of men has cried at least even once. No one is safe from tears and emotional pain. And throughout your life you'll feel emotional pain in different ways and levels; the key is how to deal with it and not make it a negative feeling, my dear." The woman said very softly as I turned my face to cry silently again.

The woman moved closer but I didn't even feel strong enough to move away because I couldn't stop crying. The woman placed a hand on my shoulder and I tried to move my shoulder away, but she insisted and it was a nice gesture when she rubbed my back in a reassuringly way. For some odd reason, it didn't feel creepy that a strange was rubbing my back; oddly enough the touch of that woman didn't seem to be alien to me.

"Cry, my dear. You need to release all that pain and crying is the best way." The woman said softly while still rubbing my back. And the disconsolate crying appeared again. "You're too young and too handsome to be suffering for an unrequited love. You're young enough to act instead think about the hundred possibilities that could come to happen. You're young enough to take chances and risk everything for the one person you think is the love of your life. When I was your age, I took the risk to run to the person I loved against all odds, without even thinking about the consequences. I ended up marrying that man and having a little beautiful son with him. You should take chances as well; you never know what's out there waiting for you. This is an advice of an old woman who has already experienced all you're experiencing right now." The woman said in a soft and almost kind way. "Now, I have no idea what you're doing here, wasting your time with an old woman instead going after the love of your life!" The woman exclaimed loudly and I chuckled softly in between the crying. "Go now and get that girl!" The woman insisted and basically forced me to stand up.

When I stood up, I looked at the woman who was still sitting on the bench. Maybe she was a professor but I've never seen her before. She was smiling at me warmly and her green eyes were soft and kind. I didn't even know her name, but somehow I was thankful for her nice gesture of trying to reassure a stranger like me who was crying like a little boy. I wiped my tears away and I smiled shyly at her.

"Thanks." I whispered shyly.

I was looking at those kind green eyes which reminded me of a very distant memory. The woman only nodded and smiled and I turned around to leave and come back to my room, until I heard something that the woman said.

"Good luck, boogersnot."

I stopped abruptly, in shock. There was only one person who called me like that; and it's been 12 years since the last time someone called me like that, since the last time that specific person called me like that. No, it couldn't be. She died about 7 years ago. But the green eyes... Those were her eyes. The familiar touch... No, no, no, it couldn't be. My body was now trembling and everything was blurry because of the shock. My heart started beating really fast and I was having troubles to breathe.

"Mom?" I asked gingerly with trembling voice.

But when I turned around to look at the woman, she wasn't there anymore. I looked all around but she wasn't there and there wasn't any kind of sign that someone has been there. Everything was really quiet and no one was around and she couldn't have disappeared from my sight so quickly. I looked down feeling very disturbed and aghast. I couldn't believe that I've just fantasized with my dead mother. Fuck, I was going crazy. Why? Why would this be happening to me? Was I losing my mind or something? I desperately needed to get better somehow because I couldn't keep being like this. I just couldn't add another problem in my life that was the fantasies about Sunny and now my dead mother. What was next? But this fantasy about my dead mother just felt so real; it was real for me; it was very different than the ones I had about Sunny. Damn. I tried to relax while still looking around to check if there was any kind of sign of any person wandering around. I was definitely alone. I took a deep breath and I started walking to the room, trying to take off my mind that realistic fantasy about my dead mom. Now, unlike my fantasy about Sunny, I didn't hesitate to open the door and walk in. She wasn't in the living room or in the dining room or kitchen. One part of me was glad that she wasn't here because I really couldn't talk to her about the book and I couldn't talk because I was still a bit shocked for what happened with my mom. I had no idea why I'd think about her again if it's been years since the last time I saw her and the last time I thought about her. It shouldn't matter to me because she abandoned me and because she died because of drugs, I didn't even go to her funeral because I wasn't even invited; but somehow this mattered to me. I walked to the bedroom to try to sleep and forget everything. She was there already in her bed, peacefully sleeping, hugging her pillow. I looked at her for a long time from the door; she was so beautiful while sleeping. I walked to her bed to cover her with the blankets that were tangled on her body but weren't covering her entire body. When I did it, she smiled in pleasure but remained sleeping. I crouched and I stared her face for a long time; if only I could be with her like this forever; if only I could look at her before going to sleep and after waking up. But I did have her. Maybe not the way I've always dreamed, not the way I'd want to have her; but I had her and she was my best friend, I couldn't ask for more. One gets the kind of love we think we deserve; maybe this was the only I deserved, and it was good too. I caressed her cheek very tenderly and then I leaned to kiss her temple. When she smiled warmly, I smiled back at her, even if she couldn't see me. She brought me calm.

"Goodnight, Sunny." I whispered and then I stood up.

I was about to walk to my own bed and try to get some sleep. But when I turned around, my gaze focused on the book I wrote. It was there and I could notice she has read it. But, unlike my fantasy about her, there was note next to my book. I recognized her handwriting. I looked at her again, she was still sleeping and I started to feel nervous again. I took the book and the note and I went to the living room. I really didn't want to read the note in front of her because I had no idea what she could have written and because I couldn't read it in the bedroom while she was sleeping because I wouldn't want to bother her. I sat on the couch, and I put on my glasses to read. I was nervous to read her note; I was more like freaking out. This was the time in which I was going to find out if she noticed or not that she was the girl I was in love with, that every single one of the letters in the book were directed to her. I needed to stop being such a coward and just read the damn note. I took a deep breath and I started reading her long note.

"Letter number 6: Another point of view from an outsider.

Chill out already. It's okay to stray from your planned conception of the future. You're still young and resilient, and even though your surroundings don't look like the pretty picture you imagined in your head; it will be okay. Try to just go with it. Shakespeare said 'Expectation is the root of all unhappiness'. Think on that for a bit, Brian. Yes, it is possible to feel alone. It will get better. And if it doesn't, that will be your sign. You know it'll be time to move on. Bring peace to your mind. Love the fact that you earned what you were working toward for the past few years. Be proud. Try harder to keep in touch with everyone. It seems easy. But you know it'll get hard with college and jobs and dishes to wash. These people you know are important though, they're in your life for a reason. So make a concerted effort to be with them before it's too late. Love and be loved. While we're at it don't waste time with the people who aren't good for you. This life is short. Think about your own mortality. Adjust your behavior accordingly. Trust your gut feelings more. Emotions contain more knowledge and wisdom than we give them credit for. Try not to worry so much. Those late nights spent wondering how things will work out are much better spent in the joyful warmth of dream. Know that everything will be okay in the end.

Be less critical of others. We all have our own challenges. And, Brian, most importantly, get outside of your comfort zone. Being terrified of something isn't a good reason not to do it. It might even be the best reason to try it.

If you love that specific person, if you truly love her, just take a chance. The way you described your feelings, the way you described yourself when thinking about her, the way you described the love you feel for her; it's only a proof that real love does exist. Don't waste your love for her for being afraid of confessing it, because that love may turn into a negative feeling instead a positive feeling as it should be. Being afraid is part of the nature of every single human being; the key is how to break the barriers of that fear to take action and fight for a love. Yes, it'd be a battle; no, you're not guaranteed that you're gonna lose it. There are 50 percent of possibilities that she's gonna love you back, even if you think it's impossible. But, have you ever tried to talk to her about your real feelings? If not, then how can you be so sure that she won't love you back? You're standing in the unknown in which all your theories of whether the girl loves you back or not are based on your perceptions. And perceptions can be deceptive, because they're images that we make up in our minds which most of the time aren't even real and true. Of course there are 50 percent of possibilities that the girl is going to reject you. Let's suppose that the girl rejects you; let's say how you might feel, let's settle a sort of tips you have and you don't have to do.

Don't look at a mirror now. Avoid them with the same fervor you hold for trying to run to your longed significant other. The thing is, there are a million places you could be directing your anger and sadness, even places which are entirely positive, but you're unfailingly going to be sending it inward. You weren't pretty enough, not smart enough, not doing enough of this or that. There's nothing about yourself you won't find worthy of disdain, desperately in need of change. But you can't change anything, at least not now, and it certainly wouldn't be for the right reasons. It's just a moment of unfiltered self-loathing that you'll have to try your best to ignore.

Everyone will tell you that you're going to forget about this, that one day it'll seem like nothing, that it'll be a blip on the horizon behind you. But the thing is, at least at the moment, you don't want that to happen. No one understands. How could they? You want to tell them that moving on is too far from your plane of reality now to even imagine. But you can imagine something, and you must.

Imagine waking up every day, at a good time, even if you stay in your bed for a while. Get used to the sound of the birds, the feeling of light coming through the window, the quiet pleasures of a new day ahead of you. Imagine eating a good meal, even if mostly comprised of comfort food, and enjoying the feeling of a full stomach. Let things go slowly, and be enjoyed for exactly what they are, not what you want them to be. Dinner won't be for two, but it'll be dinner. Imagine doing your work every day, putting your whole body into the smallest project. Channel all of that energy into even the tiniest victories, and allow yourself to revel in them. Imagine seeing every day in which you wake up, you eat, you escape your bed, you call a friend, to be a success. Know that it is one, and be proud of having done so much. Imagine being kind when you finally do look in the mirror, even if you're still covered in invisible wounds. Imagine breathing. And then, no matter how much you want to give up entirely, do it.

'Just be strong', someone will tell you, 'It'll be okay'.

What 'strength' would actually denote when it comes to such emotional undertakings? In most aspects of life, a certain stoicism about the more difficult things we encounter is considered a positive, a sign that we're coming into adulthood. But strength is often a very concrete, physical thing. It's standing upright, it's holding back a tear, it's allowing someone to rest on your shoulder by not resting on them. Strength is a kind of resignation to the inevitability of what is happening around you, creating a port in the storm with your reliability in a world that is changing too quickly. When you're strong, you don't allow yourself to wallow in any kind of pity; you cut sadness off at the impasse and don't move an inch.

There's a deep need for strength within us, for someone to reassure us that things are okay when everything is crumbling. We can't all lean without something to lean on, and if we each hold our heads high just a little bit, everyone has an easier time. I know that to be strong in your situation, as it always has been for things which brought great sadness, is to be quiet, stoic, and appreciative of the positives. You still have your health, your youth, your future. There's good to everything, and to discreetly appreciate all of these things while minimizing the amount of emotion you let escape would be ideal. It would mean that you're strong, and you're handling this like an adult.

But is strength, at least in the emotional sense, really always the sign of a deeper maturity? Sure, no one is helped by a complete succumbing to pain, but is there not a place in these moments for a certain kind of weakness? Weakness means crying, yes, but what is wrong with crying? Is it so taboo to be honest in confronting our pain? This weakness means letting others know just how important they are, how much they matter. Part of being weak is telling others, in whichever way we're capable, that we need them. We're saying that we can't do this by ourselves, that the love and support of those around us is essential for climbing the more difficult obstacles.

And don't we want to be needed? Don't we feel a strange kind of relief when someone around us is able to admit, truly, what is actually wrong, and acknowledge that they need a shoulder to lean on? We berate others for responding 'I'm fine' to a 'How are you?' when they're clearly anything but. We want them to be honest, because denying there's a problem is the only certain way never to fix it. And yet, when pain gets too great and we're truly at a moment of emotional weakness, we're supposed to be the strong, silent type? It seems almost unfair to expect of us, at a moment when feeling the full weight of pain is most necessary, to squash it all down into some hidden-away compartment.

The truth is, we want to feel our pain. We want to feel the sadness and the near-burning nostalgia of leaving a place and a people we love, because it deserves it. Everything beautiful that we experience in life, when it suffers or comes to an end, is going to be filled with this kind of aching sorrow. But that's a good thing, because it means that it had significance in your life, that it cannot be easily dismissed like so many other things you let roll off your back. To be sad when the end comes is to pay homage to everything that was great, to all that it gave you, to who you are because of it. And yes, it's 'weak' to cry and write letters and talk about your sadness. It's 'weak' to rest your head on someone's chest and welcome being consoled. It's 'weak' to focus, at least temporarily, on the pain you feel.

But it's also wonderful. It's a moment in which you feel alive, human, and fully connected to the things that you touch in life. There are few moments where we lose or change or move on from something great, and those moments do make us weak. To be strong and silent in the face of them, to deny that they've touched you and will leave a great absence in your life, is to dismiss its importance. You may find yourself needing the support of friends and family, to be reassured and have your hand held. You may need to be reminded of what is good, and that the pain will subside. You may need to lean on someone. And that's okay.

One day, someone will need to lean on you. They'll have a hurt in their life that makes them feel everything they may have been trying to numb. And that day, you'll be strong. Because strength isn't a quality that we're all expected to embody individually when a bad thing befalls us. Strength is something we all share, that we give and take as needed, that we loan out with the intention of borrowing back later on. And when we're the yin to that yang, when we are crying instead of consoling, that is fine, too. Because a life without sadness and loss is a life without happiness and worth, and we all deserve to feel the full beauty of our lives. Life is about finding balance between push and pull, up and down, your highs and lows, in order to find peace. The Buddhists say that happiness isn't about staying on all the time or being a human upper; it's about finding that perfect center in the middle of the storm of emotion. We find that in each other.

We fall in love with people, and we fall in love with places and things. But how many of us have fallen in love with ourselves? It's a weird concept to think about, it seems like something that we shouldn't need to experience. But I'm starting to think it might be something we all need to do especially as a prerequisite for all our other types of love especially as we get older.

In the first place, what does it mean to 'fall in love'? I ask because the concept is confusing to me: Does love really just happen? Don't get me wrong, the love between two people can seem to be a rather unexplainable occurrence. And I'm indeed one of those weird people who think that love at first sight is possible. But beyond the feelings we feel that let us believe that love is serendipitous, perhaps it's also possible that the culmination of our experiences in life are the true determinants for what we believe, know, and experience love to be. In that breadth, maybe falling in love isn't so unexplainable, maybe it's a choice that is the consequence of all our other choices, however unaware we are of those choices.

If falling in love is a choice, maybe we can also learn to choose it for ourselves. Something people often fail to ask themselves is whether they like who they are; whether they like that person staring at them in the mirror. It's easy to be your harshest critic on one hand, many of us are; but on the other hand, it's also easy to fall into the abyss of conceitedness, and many of us do that too. But if virtue lies between two extremes and I believe it does, falling in love with yourself occurs somewhere in the middle, where we appreciate who we are and the gifts that we have, while accepting our weaknesses and imperfections with a fervent desire to do better each day.

I think that when you don't fall in love with yourself, there's an expectation that the person you fall in love with, will fill the void of self-worth that is really up to you and I to fill for ourselves. Even when people love us the way we deserve and desire, they can't always give us what we need. And one of the things we need to give ourselves is our self-worth. I often get a lot of disagreement when I tell people, 'You can't save anyone'. But all I'm trying to convey is that no matter how much someone loves you, they can't give you the things that you have to obtain for yourself, and your self-worth is one of them; learning to be in love with who you are is one of them.

Falling in love with yourself is as beautiful as any experience of love is. It's learning to laugh at your awkward tendencies and smile at all your quirky habits. It's learning to be grateful for the many sides you have: confident, crazy, shy, sexy, nerdy, angry, weird, and all the rest of them. It's realizing that you're one of a kind and that you deserve to give the world the best person you can be. Falling in love with yourself is being happy in your life and knowing that in this one moment in time, you're beautiful simply because you are you.

If your longed significant other rejects you, keep in mind that what we can do is be the best person we can be, and create a self that we're happy with because whatever the future holds for any of us, alone or not, we all have to be with that self for the rest of our lives.

So, don't define yourself by what you're not, by what other people want you to be, by what you wish you could be for your longed significant other. You are whatever touches your soul more deeply than anything. You are who you love. You are the music that makes you cry. You are the daydreams your mind trails off to. You are your favorite food. You are your deepest desires. You are what you want to bring to the world. You are the silly jokes that make you laugh. You are how you treat other people, especially people who don't and can't do anything for you in return. You are anything and everything that touches you and changes you from your core. Have goals, have dreams and aspire for a good future. These are all good things. But if we abuse our time by thinking about the future mostly and forget to be in the moment, we may find that we've spent our lives doing a lot of thinking and worrying, but never truly living. And that above all, might be the worst thing to realize when you consider how short life truly is. So, today, right now, in this moment in time, I encourage you to just 'be'."

When I finished reading the note, I found myself shedding tears again. But this was a different kind of crying than the way I cried out there hours ago. She obviously didn't notice she was the girl and I didn't know if I should feel relieved for this or not; part of me wanted it and part of me did not. She still wasn't aware of my real feelings for her, that everything was up to her to reject me or not. Nevertheless, it didn't matter too much, because what actually mattered right now were the things she wrote entirely for me. All of them were simply beautiful and those were things I needed to hear, or read in this case. I was impressed by the way she could understand the real way I was feeling. I cried in silence for a while, covering my face, until I felt someone sitting on my lap to wrap the arms around my neck. I knew it was her. I uncovered my face and this time, for the very first time, I didn't feel ashamed of showing her my tears. I looked deeply into her eyes while still shedding tears, and I looked at her in a way to show her my gratitude because I couldn't talk. It didn't matter I couldn't talk because she understood me. She placed my head on her chest to caress my hair and rub my back while I was sobbing, as though she wanted to let me know I could lean on her to show my weakness, weakness of which I shouldn't feel ashamed. And I didn't feel ashamed, I felt protected and I felt loved; even if I was aware that kind of love wasn't the kind of love I was feeling for her; but it was love and it was the greatest feeling. That was what mattered. Now, if only she knew I was in love with her.

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It was dark at night and I recently left the Blind Pig after spending a really fun night with my friends. Now Joey and I were walking to our apartment. We were a bit tipsy, so we were walking slowly to there and from time to time we would stop to make a prank and laugh about something so absurd that if we were completely sober we wouldn't laugh at. It wasn't until four blocks away from our apartment that I noticed someone has been following us since we left the Blind Pig. Everything was dark and there was no one around; not even cars were passing by through this street, so it wasn't so hard to find out that someone was following us, because of the shadows I noticed behind us. I walked closer to Joey.

"Man, I think someone is following us." I whispered in his ear very surreptitiously, still walking, trying to act naturally.

"I know. It's an old woman. I've noticed it too." Joey whispered back. "Maybe she's a homeless woman who doesn't have anything better to do than following people."

"But man, what if she attacks us? What if she has a knife or something? Maybe we should run." I proposed in a whisper, trying to look at the woman behind us on the sly.

"Are you insane? If we run we'll prove we're scared then she might attack us. If we prove we aren't scared of her, she'll leave us in peace. Goddammit, Darren, don't look behind!" Joey whispered a bit altered.

"Sorry! I'm just a bit scared of that woman; she looks creepy." I whispered.

"I don't think she looks creepy; she looks harmless. Come on, Darren! What could an old woman do to badass like us? We're two young guys and she's only an old woman. Do you really think she can do something bad to us? Don't be ridiculous!" Joey whispered while frowning.

"Okay, just let's hurry to arrive at our apartment." I whispered still concerned, despite what Joey said.

Joey and I started walking faster, not running, but fast. It was incredible how all of a sudden I was feeling completely sober; maybe because of the fear and adrenaline. Right in this moment I wished there could be someone else around in the lonely street. The sounds of our steps were like paranoiac; suddenly all of my senses were on guard to the slightest unusual movement or sound. I've never been more afraid of walking in a lonely dark street before, not even when I knew W was spying me in high school; maybe because there I was in San Francisco, a city in which I lived all my life; now I was in Ann Arbor, a city that I still didn't know so much. I placed one hand in the pocket of my jeans, right where my phone was, just in case, to call the police. Now we were only two buildings away from ours; so it was time to find out if that woman was actually following us or if by pure coincidence she was going the same direction than us. When we were in front of our apartment, Joey pulled out the keys as I was glancing surreptitiously the woman behind us who stopped at the same moment than us. She was going to do something, I had a feeling. I tried to dial 911, but I was so nervous that I couldn't even unblock my phone. I heard the steps of the woman walking toward us and I looked at Joey in a very edgy way to hurry him; but he was as edgy as I was, so he couldn't even put the keys in the door lock.

"Do not move." The woman said stridently and in a very authoritative way.

Now I couldn't keep acting naturally and I gave a fuck about everything. I pulled out my phone, unblocked it and, with my fingers trembling, I started dialing 911. Joey turned around to face the woman and when he did it, his face got pale and he opened widely his eyes; it was a terrified and disturbed expression. He placed a hand on my shoulder and I turned my face to look at the woman. I looked at her with the same terrified and disturbed face than Joey, feeling extremely edgy, scared and troubled.

"Leave that phone right now or I'm gonna shoot you." The old woman said viciously, aiming me with a gun and looking into my eyes very fixedly with her green eyes.