Wesley: Meeting Cindy
My name is Wesley. I’m from a typical loving Asian family.
Scratch that. That’s what my family would like me to believe. Yes, my family is loving, but for some reason, I just don’t feel like I fit in it. I’m not sure if that means there is something wrong with me, or if I’m actually adopted. The thing is, I’ve never felt like I quite fit in with them. My siblings seem to get along with my parents fine, but something about me just doesn’t click with them.
That case doesn’t solely apply to my family. It’s the same with some of my friends. Throughout my life, I’ve attempted to make lasting friendships with people. I’m not afraid to reach out to them and to keep our relationship on good terms. But somehow, no matter how hard I try to keep some friendships I’ve made, I’m twenty years old, and I’m a student in college with a promising future. What’s keeping me away from these people whom I try so hard to maintain a relationship with? I really don’t know.
I recently met a girl in Circle K, an organization at my university. Her name is Cindy. That night and the social, as I navigated through the sea of unfamiliar faces, I caught a glimpse of her face. She was talking to other people. There was something about her smile that captured my attention. I waited for her to finish talking to whoever that was taking up her time, and seized the opportunity immediately to introduce myself.
“Hi, I’m Wes,” I said, extending my hand to her.
“Hi, my name is Cindy.” She shook my hand, and looked into my eyes and smiled. Her smile made me feel warm and happy inside. The way her eyes looked when she looked at me was something I’ve never seen before. It gave me a feeling of familiarity, as if I’ve known her for years now. It also gave me a feeling of excitement, as if her eyes are teasing me about the fact that I actually know nothing about her. Little did I know, from that moment on, my life has taken a completely different turn.
Since that night, I’ve been hanging out with Cindy everyday. We study together and eat together, or we would just find a random excuse to see each other. When I don’t see her, I would still be thinking about her and texting her. We talk for hours and hours, to the point where I wouldn’t want to leave and go home at night. I couldn’t believe how happy I was feeling just because of a girl I’ve met for only two weeks. When I look into her eyes, I still get that same mixed feeling of excitement and familiarity. I started to learn more and more about her. She is intelligent, kind, sincere, personable, pretty, and just stood out among all the other girls I’ve met in college so far. There was just something about her that captured me entirely to the point where I wanted to do nothing but spend time with her. I liked her, and I knew that she liked me back.
One night, we stayed up until very late studying. As usual, I walked her back home and we sat on her couch just talking. I was feeling more tired than usual, so I turned off the lights to rest my eyes on her couch. She changed into her pajamas, and sat next to me on the couch. We talked for a while. I’m not sure if I was really tired, or I just suddenly felt very comfortable with her, but I suddenly decided that I trust her. I told her, honestly, about myself, about my insecurities, about my family and my relationships with friends, and about me being afraid of losing her the same way I’ve lost everyone else. She listened. She didn’t say a word and listened to me as I poured out my heart to her. Once I started telling her the thoughts I kept close to myself, I couldn’t stop. I felt her hand close to mine, and I took it in mine and held it. And I talked on. And she listened. It all felt so natural. It was like this was bound to happen, like we are just two good friends talking our hearts away on a Friday night, holding hands for comfort. It was all so natural. But I’ve known her for only two weeks.
After our talk, she said that I should sleep in her bed with her if I become too tired to go home. I really was too tired to walk home at that point, and I haven’t cuddled with anyone for a while, so I gladly accepted her offer. We lied in her bed together, her head on my chest, and listened to my ipod. I haven’t felt so happy in a very long time. Everything, at this moment, is perfect. She is perfect. “Cindy?” I looked at her and asked her something that has been on my mind ever since I had met her.
“Will you be my girlfriend?”
She looked at me, and smiled. Her eyes and her smile became shy. “Yes.” She looked happy, and I was happy, and everything is perfect. I kissed her soft lips and my heart raced. How can something so wonderful be happening to me right now? I’m not dreaming. This is real. She is the one thing I’ve been waiting for all this time. She is the root of my happiness.
But of course this magic didn’t last. It was too good to be true. One day, as she was showering, I used her computer to check my email and social network notifications. I found a mysterious tab open that said “Diary.” Of course, I knew that I should have pretended to not see it, but one doesn’t get this opportunity everyday. I took it and scrolled through her diary. What I found completely shocked me. Although she is on the surface a nice and relatively quiet girl, the diary is full of curse words and hatred. I had also learned that she has a personality disorder called ASPD. That basically means, she is a borderline psychopath. I thought about it, and she does, mildly, display some symptoms of ASPD. Superficial charm? Yes. Lack of moral values? Yes. Grandiose sense of self worth? Yes. Promiscuous sexual behavior? Yes. Everything made sense. Yet, this doesn’t turn me of. I found her the more intriguing. I wanted to get to know her more. I wanted to help her, to save her
What happened after that was a cascade of reactions. She found out what I did and started acting weird around me without telling me why. I became more and more obsessive in fear that this relationship would also fall into pieces. We had a talk. She told me about some ex-boyfriend who she may not be fully over, so I gave her some time. I was still constantly trying to talk to her and spend time with her, but she ignores me or replies to my conversations with one word answers. Then she got back again with her ex boyfriend. I became increasingly frustrated but my want to fix the whole situation also increased. I’m sure she was sick of me by now. I didn’t care, I just kept trying.