My heart stopped when I said that. When she turned around, her face red, she looked so cute my her resumed it’s beating. But when turned back around and started walking fast, away from me, my heart must’ve skipped a beat and my legs weakened before I can run towards her.
It took me a few months to gather that huge amount of courage for me to say that out loud to her. A lot more than when I had to face my father after the only time I failed my Maths test when I was 12. A lot more courage than when I had to give a speech in front of 300 of my boarding schoolmates for the first time during a school assembly.
I understood she was shocked. She must’ve been conscious of our friends who walked barely a few meters away from her. But I have made sure they wouldn’t hear us. They were talking and laughing loudly, anyway. The timing wasn’t the best.
Months after that, I told her on the phone what I like the most about her – her decisiveness. And that night when she passed me her mother’s number, she was quick to decide. And she kept her promise.
I remember how trembled I was dialing her mother’s number for the first time. But my trembling voice faded as I heard her mother’s soothing voice. And the moment she started telling me her daughter’s childhood stories, I forgot my script at all. We talked for more than an hour.
Now, five years, two kids and eight cats later, I am still grateful I gathered up my whole courage that night to this decisive woman. And I forever will.