"Isn't it pretty to think so?"

“Oh Jake," Brett said, "We could have had such a damned good time together."

Ahead was a mounted policeman in khaki directing traffic. He raised his baton. The car slowed suddenly, pressing Brett against me.

Yes," I said. "Isn't it pretty to think so?”

― Ernest Hemingway, The Sun Also Rises

"You look happy", a colleague said. "It's weird and I don't like it".

And indeed I was, and for a reason that would be unexpected for anyone who has known me for any length of time. "It is weird, and to be honest, I don't like it either", I replied.

I started seeing a girl about a month ago and somehow, the happiness associated with seeing her was affecting all aspects of my life. Owing to a history that doesn't deserve mention, I have a reputation for deliberately and determinedly avoiding human relationships. For that reason, everyone close to me took an immediate interest in what I was doing (and helped where they could because, by admission, I didn't know what I was doing).

She is, for lack of a more emphatic categorical expression, perfect. Which is to say she was perfect for me and fell within those nonsense, unattainable criteria which I've held onto to exclude a legion of potential suitors over the past few years:

1. She is kindhearted; unapologetically gentle, and of the sort which I doubt had the capacity to hurt anyone. Most importantly me.

2. She reads. In a time where the train carriages are a zombified mass of smart phones and Facebook, she reads. And it makes her smart and interesting and is, for me, the most attractive quality in the world.

3. She (at least seemed) to have a working understanding of middle-Eastern politics.

For the longest time, I've avoided going further than anything that appears to be an official date. Not feeling that I have anything in particular to offer, and entrenched in the view that I don't have the capacity to recover from being hurt again, I've pushed back against the world for a while. But the universe, as it always does, prevailed.

So I fumbled, shyly at first, to engage her. She has the kind of smile which would instantly turn the most abominable 12-to-14-hour-litigation-hellday into something substantially better than it otherwise could have been. It's a rare, special quality, and the thing that I knew would quickly have me under her spell.


It was unbearably difficult to commit myself to a few dates and it was only after hours of talking, numerous bottles of overpriced wine, and a kiss that clearly signalled her softness and intention, that I made the decision that I liked her. In fact, I liked her more than I could ever have expected to.

Being cautious (and a little smart), my penchant is for self-destruction and over-thinking. After deciding that she was the kind of girl that I could project a happy future with, I got well ahead of myself.

See, despite the fact that I wanted her, it turned out that she didn't want me. And where others might have been angry, or hurt, I'm just sad. It's fair to say that she didn't catch me at my best (which is less than impressive, anyway) and, when it comes to a girl that special, it's difficult to fault her decision making process.

Feelings are intangible and often genuinely unexplainable. I'm not in the business of trying to change people's views or feelings and, as much as it pained me, I told her that I understood. And thanked her for the chance she gave me. It's inarguable that she deserved far better than my meagre offerings and it is selfish to think otherwise.

There's no particular reason that I'm writing this, save for the fact that this process is reflective for me. Maybe she'll change her mind, and maybe she won't, but I'll certainly be ok either way. It's been a long time since I've put myself in a position where my happiness was contingent upon the actions of someone else, in that maddening and frustrating (and exposing) exercise of trust and vulnerability. I'm glad for the time I got to spend with her, however brief, because:

1. It taught me that I could open myself up to the possibility that there might be something else out there;

2. She was (and no doubt still is) undeniably special;

3. There is beauty in vulnerability, despite the risk; and

4. Despite disappointing them this time, there is a large group of people around me that have a genuine interest in wanting me to be happy (and I love them all more, for knowing).