My type of guy

He is not handsome or popular. He is not smart or rich. All these factors added together and it would make any girl my age turn her head away from him. My friends asks: "Why! he's so ugly, what do you like him?" I say "Because he's nice". They say "Just that?" and they'd give me these weird looks which I hate, but what can I do?



Of course deep down, that's not the only reason. But why should I disclose so much to them when they are the type of people who only judges you by the type of boyfriend you've got? No, Daniel is a guy I treasure, and not to show off.



Sure, Daniel's not the handsomest, or richest, or most popular guy around, but there is one thing he has which no guy will ever have. Daniel - everytime I look at him - makes my stomach have butterflies, makes my heart beat faster, and makes me self-conscious for whatever I do. Daniel - the guy with no looks and money, however makes me happy.



And isn't that what a girl wants in a relationship? Not looks - because that won't last. When you turn into a crippled old lady, and he abandons you, wouldn't it be too late to go looking for another guy to keep you satisfied? If looks were the only thing that matters in the world, then that is not love we're experiencing, but something else. Something that is not genuine, not true, and something in which true love and happiness can never be find.



We met when I was only in my early years of high school. A time when my life wasn't the happiest, but here he was - standing next to me, comforting me, and making me laugh in the most unexpected times. How could I have survive without him - I do not know - but here he is, always there for me, supporting me, and making my life a million times better.



I remember it as the day I came home from school, walked into the house, expecting my parents to greet me with a happy birthday; but instead, what I found was the whole house messed up – chairs overturned, clothes lying on the floor – like my house had been robbed. I think back to it now, and I recall this rather unrealistic thought in my head “…it’s a surprise birthday party…” It was stupid, because afterwards, all I can remember is my parents sitting me down in my room, and telling me about their divorce. What had been my reaction? My parent’s face was expressionless, stoned. Mine was filled with perhaps sadness, grief – all I know was that my once fantasised happy family is now turning into a disaster; and I had been so overwhelmed I hurried out of the house, tears blurring my vision, and running aimlessly for a long, long time.

It was a rainy day. It wasn’t raining at the time, but the ground was wet, the sky dark, cloudy, and gloomy, and not a person was to be seen or heard from where I was. I was scared like a little girl afraid of her neighbour’s Labrador, but I was sitting like a homeless person, on the curb of the street just one street away from my house, and sobbing silently into my arms.



Then a gentle weight lay on my shoulder; then a slight cough behind me. I looked up, eyes red, and cheeks wet – I must’ve been a sight to see! – but at that time, I didn’t care. Just let him be, I thought. Most people would have walked away and leave a crying girl alone. Most people wouldn’t want trouble – maybe the girl wanted some time by herself anyway. But he didn’t leave. He sat down on the curb beside me, and watched me cry, without asking a question.



It was weird to have a stranger sit next to you and watch you cry. But at the same time, it was nice to have someone there with you. After a while, I looked up, and he was smiling – it wasn’t a smirk; it was that smile which displayed friendliness and a softness to him.



I wasn’t going to talk to him about all that had happened, but before I knew it, I was telling this stranger everything, and without a question, this stranger took in everything, understood how I felt, and promised to be there when I needed him.

Who was this boy? This lanky boy with eyes like the soil in my pot plant, blue checkered shirt, and hair so messed up like the wind has been blowing in it the whole day? Who was he? Later, I found out his name is Daniel and that he has just moved into the neighbourhood last month.



“How come I never see you catch the bus?”

“Which bus do you catch?”

“The normal bus”

“Which is-?”

“Oh, the 3:45pm bus home”

“Well, that’s because I catch the 4:45pm bus.” When I looked at him a bit puzzled, he continued, “I go to Strathfield Boys.”



Isn’t it funny how two strangers, who’ve never met before, can become friends whom the other can’t live without? Later, Daniel walked me home. I opened the door, the strong repugnant smell of isolation swept over me, and immediately I hadn’t come home so early



I didn’t know why I was so strongly attached to this stranger when I’ve only met him once. But after a while, I realised that I don’t really have any close friends, and Daniel – this stranger – was the first person I’ve talked to about my family. And without me or him knowing, we’ve established a friendship stronger than most people would think.

At first, I thought he was just another guy who would only appear in my life once or twice. Obviously not someone who would change my life in any way. I never saw him on the bus and after a while, I almost decided that he was a liar – that he didn’t live in this neighbourhood, and was probably stalking me right now. Once, I walked around the few streets near my house, trying to ‘bump’ into him, but I never saw him. Until one day, about a month after my birthday, I got off the bus, and almost ran into him.

“Wow, girl, must be in a hurry. Do you remember me?”



I recognised him immediately – why, he was wearing the same blue checkered shirt! “Why are you here?”



Behind me, the bus drove off, leaving me alone with him in the quiet street. I started walking and he kept up with me. “Oh, I had an excursion today. How are you feeling?” At that, he peered closely at me.



Without making any eye contact, I murmured “fine”. I hate myself because Daniel was right in front of me. I’ve wanted to see this guy for weeks, wanting to talk to him, wanting to maintain this friendship, wanting someone I could talk to. And now, he’s right there, and I’m not making an effort. I’m too shy. I was scared he would walk away, disgusted by my anti-social behaviour, and I would never see him again.



And again, opposite to what I had expected, he didn’t leave, and instead walked me home. For everyday of the next few weeks, he was waiting for me at the bus stop. Each time, I’d say “why are you here?” Sometimes, he’d say “it’s my school’s early day…”, sometimes, “my mum need me home to help her with something”, and sometimes he’s just shrug the question off and a whole new subject would appear out of thin air.



Later, I realised that it was all excuses, but how he could be travelling so fast from one place to the other, I had no idea.



In year 10, we had a formal. Everyone of my friend brought a guy, and I was peer pressured into bringing one too. All I could think of was Daniel, but with his looks and…. I just couldn’t bring him to the formal to meet my friends without getting embarrassed. I paid for another person anyway, and thought I’d bring him if it comes to the worst.



He asked me to his formal one day and I was hesitant. “I’ll pay for you,” he said. I thought I’d give it a go, and went. It was a most horrible night. He was off with his friends and only once did he seem to remember I was there.



But too bad, I bought an extra ticket for my formal, so I asked him during one casual conversation whether he’d like to go to my formal. I guess he regret leaving me alone at his formal because for my formal, I could tell he made a lot of effort just to look nice, and sociable. We danced a slow song, a fast song, and a few more slow songs. My friends gave him some weird looks, but later I didn’t care. And even later, I could see in their faces that they were amazed how I could dance with a guy whom they thought was so not up to their standards. Surprisingly, the night turned out so much better than I had expected. That night before we parted, he gave me a kiss on my cheeks. It wasn’t a lingering one, just a quick short kiss, but somehow my insides were feeling like jelly, and the whole night I couldn’t sleep because of that one kiss he gave me.

Girls are so naïve. Why, just that one kiss and I thought things would start happening. Things – I don’t really know what, but I was expecting it. Well things did happen. But it took another year until we got serious, and another five years until things got a lot more serious.



Things aren’t always happy between us, of course. We’ve been through ups and downs, but we’ve both come out unscathed. It took me a long, long time to realise that his grandmother had died a week after he first saw me. Why hadn’t he told me, I was not certain, but my guess is that he didn’t want me to feel more burdened with the news of his grandma’s death. Of course, I wouldn’t really have cared then, with the weight of my family heavy like metal on my shoulders. When I found out about that, I was hurt at first, but then as he explained how he didn’t want this friendship to be awkward when it first began, I forgave him.



Seven years later from the day I first met him, I’m sitting on the same curb on the same street. He rang me on my mobile a few minutes ago, and now as he hung up, I’m wondering about the different sort of reasons why he’d want to meet me here. It’s funny how two strangers can become friends, best friends, lovers…. Perhaps something more?



I didn’t want to think about that because I hate the feeling of disappointment. On my sixteenth birthday, I remember, I was so disappointed because it was such a typical day. It was not special, and thought I had never expected anything big to happen, there had been something tugging inside of me, whispering ‘Michelle, it’s your special day’.

How could I describe it? I was sad on my sixteenth birthday. I felt like a deflated balloon; a girl in her best prom dress walking into the elegant Curzon Hall, expecting the spotlight to be on her, but instead, no one notices her dress. I remember how I was screaming silently on the inside for help because I was suffocating under this disappointment. Screaming so loud inside of me, and yet, no one heard me, and by keeping on a straight face, not one person decided that I was unhappy on the inside.

No. There was one person. Daniel. He saw me and right away noticed something was wrong…



The sky is getting dark now, cicadas chirping away and dogs barking in the quiet neighbourhood. When is Daniel coming? I think I fell asleep, but when I next woke up, the sky is dark, the sun has set behind our house. I thought I was in my room, but no. In front of me, there is a cake with a single candle, and next to me, Daniel shoves a bunch of roses in my face.



“Happy Birthday Darling.” He gives me a soft, lingering kiss, then whispers in my hear in the most gentle and soothing voice I’ll never forget “Will you marry me?”

I might not have had a perfect family. I might not have had many friends at school. But what is all this to me now, when there is the perfect guy next to me now, and asking me to be his wife. Of course I said “Yes”.