I had proposed to her. The least she could do was give me a reply.
I also felt scared. What if she said no? Maybe her silence meant
no. What if she stopped talking to me? Panic gripped me. I wondered
if proposing to her was the worst mistake of my life.
I decided to call her. I typed her number six times. But I did not
press the green call button. I didn’t have the courage.
My phone beeped. I had a new message. I opened it.
Am sick :( . Viral fever. Resting at home.
Relief coursed through me. She had sent back a normal, harmless
message. I wanted to ask about the proposal, but it felt like a bad time.
Unsure, I froze. Why don’t they teach us how to talk to girls?
Get well soon, I sent after rigorous analysis and deliberation in my
head.
Thanks, she said.
Miss you, I typed. Before I could think I pressed send.
She didn’t respond for a minute. It felt like a decade. Had I messed
up again? Was it not the right thing to say?
Then come home. Cheer me up.
Her message felt like a thousand red rose petals on my face. I
checked my timetable. Damn, I had four important, un-skippable
classes. I couldn’t go.
See you in an hour, I said. Classes can wait. Love can’t.