I looked at him in bewilderment. My conscience wanted to believe he meant it because most people often expressed their honest thoughts when they're drunk or high. His amorous lines caused my face flushed immediately with a slight joy. My chest tightened, my breath grew harder, I felt that oddly pleasant butterfly-in-stomach sensation and it was good.

He stroked my head, running his fingers through my pixie hair and slowly brushed the side parting of my fringe. I felt the tingling sensation and it was too good that I didn't want to move away from it. Despite my brain telling me that Abs wasn't being himself, I wanted this to last because being with him is my every desire. And I wanted him to have that same feeling towards me, without me trying too hard to change myself just to please him.

"Abs, I love you too." I confessed, drawing myself closer to him and touched his face. "I love to be around you. Honestly, whenever I'm with you, I... I feel that we are connected. And my guts would have this fluttering feeling whenever you came to Al-Safar. You have no idea how much I've been trying to want to say this but I think I am a better girlfriend than Sas."

Abs gave out a chuckle. "Yeah, you are lovable type but not the fuckable type."

I looked at him with astonishment, "What are you trying to say?"

"I mean I have to be frank with you, ZJ. You are more of a wifey material than a girlfriend type. I would want you of course but not now. I'm too young to get married. Nah!"

I was speechless, and wasn't able to have a sensible reaction to such statements. I was dumbfounded by his contradicting words. At first he said my existence was crucial in his life but then claimed that I don't belong there. What is wrong with having a wifey attitude? I thought guys would want that? Despite feeling flustered by his remarks, I probed further, "So you're saying I don't have what it takes to be their girlfriend?"

"No, no! You got it all wrong," he waved his right arm defensively. "You are pretty, ZJ. Just look at you, I bet you are a knock out in black dress. Your ass is a 10, guys would want to bang into that ass. You are a good person with a beautiful heart but nobody wants that anymore. You just don't do sex –"

"What's wrong with men and sex? Is that all you dickheads ever think of in girls" I argued. "I don't do sex with anyone unless I know he's the one. Whether you like it or not, I'm gonna hold on to that, period."

"How are you gonna find out who is the one if you ain't trying?"

"I'm an old school, Abs. The one would respect my principles and put a ring on my finger." I answered firmly.

"Yeah, and files for divorce if it ain't satisfying. See, that's what I'm saying. You don't cut out to be my girlfriend or others because you are that old hag feminist bitch that turns people off. And you dress like one of us, ZJ. I am not a fag! How do you expect me to be fantasizing you when you are wearing shirt and slacks like in the 90s?"

My face flushed with a struck of humiliation from his honest observation. Well, he was right, though. Guys didn't want me because I've been wearing that same old clothes since my puberty years. I've been wanting people to accept me as who I am but didn't want to change with them. I've been dwelling in my safe-zone, I don't want to move out from it and take up the challenge or develop like anyone else.

But why is it so hard to change? Was it because of the death of my parents that I acted so insecure I became like this? What the hell is wrong with me? How can I compete with girls like Saskia?

"Speaking of which, people don't do marriages anymore," he continued. "Because it's bloody taxing and a waste of time. You date for a decade, get married in a month and divorce the next day. You want a husband? Get your grandad to arrange you with those old sagging balls back in his hometown, that's how we do it Hazarajat."

I was lost for words. In just one conversation, he just placed my heart to the highest point that I wasn't able to touch the ground and left it plummet and sank into the deepest sorrowful pit that I wasn't able to get out of. Doesn't matter if he was drunk or not, high or sober, frank or dishonest, his unpalatable words just broke my heart. Despite people keep saying drunkards are honest when they're wasted, I find this was a futile attempt to win him over.