Teaser, n.:

""Why do we need love? Why do we fall in love? Why do we have to love somebody? Why do we love to love somebody? Why do we need to be loved by somebody? Why, why love?" he asked. Seemingly endless. For a second, I thought his lips would never stop spitting sharp question marks to my face. Luckily, he ran out of breath and strength to think for another. I quite rejoiced inside, in fact. Then, I suddenly felt pain travelling with blood around my body. It was almost unbearable that I was almost ready to cut out my life by ripping my own head off. And when I realized that it wasn't just pain, that it was guilt, the twinges transformed into numbness immediately. I couldn't feel anything anymore. Even the thick gust of icy wind coming from the open window at the right side of his room, just above the headboard of his bed. That's the trouble with being asked. Albeit you already admitted to yourself that you don't know the answers, you'd still feel the urge, the guilt and the responsibility to respond. To give him a mouthful of answers that would satisfy his thirst.

"You give yourself a lot of 'Whys' and you expect someone else to give you the 'Because,'" I finally retorted. And he was all ears. Like a 5th grader trying hard to chew the unconventional words of his boring History teacher. "It's like you're trying to solve for the X plus Y equation when you haven't even found the X yet. Just the Y. A lot of Ys, as a matter of fact. So when you try to write it down or press it on your calc, nothing will come out but 'Syntax Error.' And that's what my answer to you right now: Syntax Error. Your Y is too much, too high, too big, while your X is empty and still unknown. I guess you should find the X first, and then we'll try to solve the equation together. Deal?"

"What if the X is you and the Y is me? Would that be enough to give me my 'Because?' Because I think that's it. That's my problem," he replied. I think I kind of blushed. But I knew I must not. Girls should never show the electric gush that swims through our bodies whenever a guy offers us the sweetest combination of nerdy words possible, and what it does to us, and how crazy it makes us.

“Don’t be silly.” I laughed. But he didn’t, so I stopped. “So, is it a deal? Look for your X?” I asked, trying to redirect the matter. But he turned away from me instead, and faced the body mirror hanging lengthwise on the wall. It didn’t change anything at all, because I could still see his features through his reflection. And I have to admit, he was really good-looking. His angelic face always told me I was safe with him. And it always felt like we were together in some kind of paradise everytime I looked in his calm green eyes. Just like in that moment. I could hear the harp playing of the angels around us. I could see clouds behind us through the mirror. I could smell the scent of eternity. All this, right behind him.

“I know I ask a lot of questions about love, but I don’t really need a lot of answers to believe it. I just need a single word that would make me believe in us. That would make me hold on to you,” he whispered. I melted and froze at the same time. I didn’t know what to do, but gumption made me hug him from behind. It was such a euphoric feeling in an agonizing moment. I don't know how that could be, but I knew that I gave up. I finally gave in. I didn’t want to, but I knew then I’ve fallen in love with him. With the guy who doubted love. With the guy who never believed in anything. With the guy who was lost in abstract.

Despite the ecstatic romance binding us together, something was making me neglect it and regret my being too easy to him. I must not let myself fall and get lost with him as well. I must find my way back home. But how could I when he’d made me feel at home already?"