All The Reason I Know [#JustWriteIt]

Reason Three

When I bring my head up, I see Clinton smiles with all pure sincerity in it.

“What?” I ask, but end up being a bit too harsh. Maybe I really just don’t like to be looked at like that; like people know everything about me and feel a pity on it but I don’t.

Clinton doesn’t seem to realize my harshness, anyway―even if he realized, he may not showing it―and he just shakes his head and says, “Nothing. Just feel glad that I can help you.”

“And why is that?” I ask, confused by this stranger is feeling glad to help me. I mean, you can help strangers, yes, but I never feel really relieved or glad when I help strangers.

“I like helping people,” Clinton admits. Well, it tells everything. “And helping people in love, mostly.”

I frown. “No offense, but it is just kind of weird for a guy to say so.”

Clinton chuckles. “Same, I think so too.”

Kind of weird, he is. But kind of okay at the same time. So, yeah.

“Well,” I try to change the subject. “What about a little chit chat? We could know each other more, anyway.”

“Sounds good,” he smiles.

“Clinton Wright, aren’t you?” I say. Then, “How do you meet Tania? And how can I never know you?”

“We meet online. Maybe that is why she never told you,” Clinton shrugs. “We started dating two years ago.”

I blink in disbelief. And I never know it?

Okay.

“Back then, we used to chat a lot and I love her cheerful and talkative personalities. When we were chatting, she was the one talked lots, while I enjoyed her every single day story. Even if nothing so fun happened, hearing her talking made me happy.”

“I can’t imagine Tania talks except with her mouth. Give me example.”

“Example how she talked back then?” Clinton tries to remember and chuckles. “Oh, there was nothing so fun happened today. But I see a cute cat! Oh my, I want to have a cat!”

So Tania Gray.

“It won’t work, that was what she always said,” Clinton continues. “She thought because I am someone from online, I might not be trustworthy, or I might be a girl who made up Clinton Wright.”

I laugh. “Sounds just like Tania Green.”

“Yeah,” Clinton smiles at the memories. “But I kept convincing her that I am real, I really am in love with her.”

“So one day―a week or so ago,” he continues. “I told her I’m going near, and she said ‘Why don’t we just meet?’ and I was so happy and told her ‘yes of course I would love to’.”

“Then you two met?” I ask. Clinton nods.

“We talked a day long in a café. And unexpectedly she was so talkative―”

“She still is,” I cut him, correcting and reminding.

Clinton lets out a laugh. “Yes, certainly. And by the end, I told her that she is unexpectedly more perfect and how I love her so much.”

I can imagine Tania met Clinton in a cozy café―if you are not creative enough, imagine Nathan’s―and she was all shy, afraid she might ruin everything. But then Clinton was so nice that she started talking endlessly and once she stopped was because Clinton’s chuckle. Confused and offended, Tania asked what was wrong and Clinton leaned his elbows on the table, head resting on his palm, and said, “Nothing is wrong,” with his smile on his face, and then, “But you’re just cute and now I realize I just love you so much and it is all unbearable.” And then Tania blushed and dropped her gaze and muttered a reply―something like I love you too―in a low voice.