I tried to believe that best things happen in wrong places.

Everything between me and Jackson fell on that condition. When Jackson told me he likes me, I was hanging out in the toilet because a goddamn diarrhea made my digestive system run berserk. We had our first kiss in Seneca Zoo. It wouldn't be a wrong place if he didn't choose to do it in front of an African crocodile. Sure, if the reptile could laugh, he'd be laughing so hard at me. His first I love you was through text and it was still there on my phone. Call me later. I still got works to do. I love you. I knew it wasn't as sweet as every beginning of Taylor Swift's relationship but, at least, there were those three words. It stopped me from making the thirteenth call. Our first date was a mess. God! Even our first night together was disgusting. Someone would think it was a Scary Movie show.

But just like all thirsty for the best love story, I also wanted that the best things happen in the right places, best places. Though, I would still love him if ever he finds himself wanting to swim with the sharks. Even he never brought me flowers, or never held me at night. That's how Will Chase love, just like Coca-Cola, it's the real thing. And I wanted him to tell me that his love for me is like L'Oreal, because you're worth it. Well, I thought the Campbell's better, Mmm! Mmm! Good! Or it could be like Muller, lick the lid. . .

"Are you wearing Givenchy again?" His voice crash-landed me back to reality. If I might die today, his voice would certainly drown the trumpets of angels as I take my grand, red-carpet entrance on Heaven. If you try to combine the voices of Thranduil, Loki, Darth Vader, the Dark Lord, and Aslan-technically, it would be a noise-that would be the most powerful voice ever heard on Earth. Jackson didn't have that voice but when he talks to me, he sounds more than that. Maybe aside from the fact that he was gorgeously beautiful in the face and the body, his voice made me submit myself to him.

I tried to cover the small Givenchy written on the edge of my coat but I forgot that there was a bigger Givenchy written on my back. I just closed my eyes and hoped that we wouldn't talk about this for the whole night. I wouldn't have the power to defend people wearing Givenchy.

"How can you never listen to me, Will? You shouldn't have to wear clothes like that in this place." He said as he sat beside me.

What's wrong in this place? Jackson, it's the place we first met. I wanted to remind him but I was afraid that if I did, this night would turn into a mess. For almost a month that we didn't see each other, I'd be the wrong guy if that would make this night better. God! I only wanted to feel like Cinderella without thinking of anything. We could dance under the moon. Oh! Where's the moon? Never mind. I wanted him to tell me how he was in that one month. Did he miss me? Did I even make a show in his mind? I always did. I wanted to tell him everything that kept me busy when he was away. I wanted to tell him that I helped a cat climb down a tree. But that wasn't the best thing. I sold all my clothes from last year and donated the money to PETA. I was sure he'd be happy to hear it. He just loved animals.

All those words that swirled on my tiny yet handy mind, all those things I wanted to share, compressed into single word.

Fuck.

"Sorry." I muttered.

I didn't mean to say sorry. I did say it, yes, but that was only to sidetrack the conversation. Thinking of things to do to change the atmosphere is yet another problem. There were just a thousand ideas in my mind which made it hard for me to pick. Should we talk about American Horror Story or Scream Queens? I bet he would forget about the coat if I told him I caught a shiny Ralts. I wondered if he even knew a thing about Pokemon. How about the death of Muhammad Ali? He wasn't a fan of boxing. I thought we should talk about marriage.

The last idea struck me the most. I remembered clearly what he texted me that we have to meet because he had to tell me something important.

My brain processed information that gave me the feeling of excitement. Maybe, just maybe, he would ask me to marry him. God! I would definitely say yes. Mom and dad had no problem with him, he got his own business. Beyond doubt, they would even push me for him.

I couldn't help myself from imagining what our marriage would look like. And because of it, I failed to see the growing annoyance in Jackson's face. His left eyebrow cocked and three worry lines are already in his forehead. My face painted no emotions but misery, and even my hope walked out of my spirit. I could feel it mocking me. That excitement and my picture of wedding faded like an advertisement on the internet.

Come on, Jackson. Tell me, you wanted to marry me.

The taste of desperation is bitter. It felt like betting the wrong team in NBA Finals and you couldn't give up because there is a buck at stake. The silence made it even more biting. I heard my heartbeat as it turned into drumbeat.

Best things happen in wrong places.

I repeated it over and over in my head. I had to believe in it even if the possibility of going in the moon is greater than making this night special. I had to think that this park is the worst place in the world despite the fact that Hallmark made postcards of this place and tagged it as the best site of Rochester. I had to desperately hope, I should say.

"Look Will, I only wanted you to be safe." His face changed from annoyed into troubled.

How could not wearing Givenchy be safe?

"I promise, Jack. I won't wear this again." I said with my right hand raised.

From troubled, his face turned sad. "You have to."

Facing him never felt this ominous before. I could tell something was bothering him. I could tell it the way he tapped his index finger on his knees.

"Did you smoke weeds?"

"Hell no!" He growled.

I wished I didn't ask it. Did I just forget that Jackson in 'grim-mode' never hears a joke? But I was right, there was really a problem.

"Don't tell me, you're leaving again." I uttered. I heard how pain choked my voice and felt how the idea of him leaving made me lose strength.

"I'm leaving. . ." and from sad, his face now distorted by the most painful emotion, ". . . for good."

I didn't know what he meant. I didn't know where to put his words. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what to feel. I just didn't know. His words echoed in my ears just like an explosion would do. It felt like a brand new knife stabbing my chest.

I tried to maintain my composure. I should really stop expecting the worst. He's leaving for good with me. Yes, that's it.

"For good?" I asked though I knew what it means.

He took a deep breath and slowly, he exhaled the air. He held both of my hands and enclosed it with his softer and warmer hands. "I think it's best if we end what relationship we have. As much as I wanted to stay, I wouldn't be there for you anymore. Will, I tried to love you but every day, you give me the reason to say that I am not the one for you. Perhaps, there was really love but it was never the love we wanted for each other."

I could say now what it felt inside me. Imagine the 9/11 incident, the Titanic, Whitney's death, and all those saddest events that ever happened on Earth, that wasn't what I felt. If you imagine those and play your saddest love song in soundtrack, that was only ten percent of what I felt. I could even hear 'Where Do Broken Hearts Go' playing in my head. God! Please, make it stop.

Dear God, if you're watching me right now-in 3D glasses while eating cheese flavored popcorn-I tell you this is not something like the X-Men movies. No matter how I prayed you to make me like Professor X, you just can't give it to me. I bet it will be cool. And sorry, I don't even know how to act that can win me an Oscar. But God, if you want to make my life a romantic tragedy, can I have the romance first? If this is a nightmare, wake me up. Slap me if it needs to. God I beg you, please don't make him walk away from me. I need him. I love Jackson.

Praying is one of the two things I could do. The other one is to let him go.

"Will, sorry." He said. He removed his hands on mine. And all I felt was the cold wind biting inside my exposed skin. I wanted to take back his hands, wrap it all around me but Jackson was not mine anymore. He has given up on me.

There was nothing inside me but the poignant emotion starting to eat up all my hope for Jackson. What should I do? I wasn't strong enough to fight for love. I wasn't brave enough to make him stay even just for a moment.

"Okay. . ." I muttered.

"Okay?"

"Yeah." I tried to sound positive but it cracked and sounded like grunt. No. it will never be okay.

"Come on, Will. No hiding feelings this time."

Oh, really? Well Jackson, I hate you. I want to slap you, kick you between your thighs, poke your eyes, make you bleed, break your bones, and . . . kiss you, love you. But you built your towers so high, and now you won't let me in. You're the worst, Jackson.

"If I tell you, will it change your mind?"

"Will. . ."

"I guess that's a no." I smiled but it didn't hide what I actually felt. "Did you find someone better than me?"

"No, there's no one better than you." He sounded calm.

Why?

"Now, I won't be bothered thinking that you break up with me because of you found someone better." I couldn't hold the tears any longer. If I cried, I would be the weaker one. Somehow, I liked to show him that for the remaining seconds ticking, I could live without him. Though, I never really could.

"Do you think I can live without you?" I asked in the calmest way I can so that it wouldn't sound like I'm mad.

"Yes," he said, "you'd go on without me, right?"

"Maybe, maybe not. I don't know."

"No maybes, Will. You have to."

I won't and I can't, even if I have to.

The silence gave me a moment to think. Even Jackson tended to the silence. His eyes gazed at the city lights. Both our ears listened to the sound the road made.

But I had to say it.

"I'm okay, Jackson."

"I don't think so."

"For the last time Jackson, I want you to believe me." I said trying hard not to suffocate with my own words. "I'm okay."

He looked at me with those eyes that I used to love. But all I could see was concern and pain. Slowly, his body moved closer on my side. I thought he was going to kiss but no, he didn't. He hugged me just like before he became my boyfriend.

"I have to trust you, then." He whispered in my ear. "Promise me, Will. You'll find yourself true love."

Before I could even speak, he let go. He walked away. Straight, he never tried to look at me. He was gone, swallowed by the darkness. Jackson was gone for good. It all happened so fast but it was better that way.

Perhaps, I was wrong in believing that best things happen in wrong places. Or maybe, this park is utterly one of the best parks. I should've believed that worst things happen in best places. If I did, would Jackson choose to stay?

Jackson left, that was the fact. And since he was gone, I could cry now.

And so I did. I cried silently because I didn't want to annoy the couples near me. Shouting is not on my list of Things to Do When You're Brokenhearted. I made that just a while ago before I stupidly say that I'm okay. What was I thinking? God! I should have begged him to stay. I should have told him that I'll post his nude photos on Facebook if he didn't stay. But he would still leave because he didn't have nude photos, even selfies.

I cried even if I looked stupid. I cried every time I remembered him. I cried because I couldn't answer the what, when, where, who, why, how question in my head. I cried because the city lights were still so bright. And maybe, I cried because it's getting late.

Goodbye, Jackson. I just wished that you invited me for a ride home.

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To be continued . . . Chapter Two is on the way ;)