I wasn't sure that I could believe what I had just read. He didn't believe in true love? Well, there are a lot of people who don't believe in true love, but how can you not have hope in something that though yes, it can be painful; it can be so wonderful too? It's that one thing that everyone looks for; well, except for the one's who don't believe in it, I guess. I'm just not sure I can believe that he really, really doesn't believe in something that can be so wonderful. Then again, I've never even been in love, but I do dream about what it'd be like.

I sighed as I frowned lightly, looking over my laptop at the guy at the table across from mine. Looking back down at my computer screen, I typed back to my friend.

'Are you sure he really said that he doesn't believe in true love? ...Maybe it's just some rumor that was made up?'

'I wish that was true. -Hmph- This makes me really sad.'

I frowned at the screen. You're not the only one, Hun. I looked up again, after telling her that I'd be back. I looked at him over my screen.

I guess with his career, the lifestyle of the rich and famous; it is kind of hard to believe in something that in so many cases is fake in the world around him. The celebrity world, along with no privacy, is all publicity and scenes. It makes you wonder how many couples are really together because they really want to be. It must be hard.

I blinked when I realized that he was looking back at me now. His left eyebrow went up, and I just continued to look at him with the small frown on my face. The look he sent me was something along the lines of: 'is there a reason that you're staring at me?' At least, I liked to believe that looks can send long messages like that. It's all a matter of interpretation.

I kept eye contact with him a bit longer, before looking back down at my screen. ...I want to ask him my question, but how to do it? I could just walk over to him, sit down, and ask. Or, I can just sit here and ponder to my imagination's content that I did ask him and he did answer me? I'm not going to lie; it's definitely more likely that I'll sit here and imagine how the conversation would go rather than actually getting up and asking him. I'm just not the kind of person who goes and buts into someone else's life, intentionally and on my own.

I didn't ask for the information that my friend gave me. She just gave it to me. Her instant message screen popped up and bam! There it was, 'Tom doesn't believe in true love,' with a sad smiley face. I think I stared at that statement for a good two minutes before looking up to find him across from me. Coincidental, isn’t it?

"It's not polite to stare, you know." I jumped when I heard the voice next to me, completely startling me out of my thoughts. I looked over, and then blinked. How could I have not noticed that he moved? ...Well, I was lost in my own trail of thought, so...He raised an eyebrow at me.

"Sorry, zoned out again. ...Didn't mean to stare; I just...found something really hard to believe." Eyebrow was still raised, and now he was giving me a funny look. Thinking about what I'd said; I'd probably give myself a funny look too. "I mean...you really don't believe in true love?" Oh, oops...I wasn't supposed to ask him that.

His eyebrow lowered, and he sat down in the chair next to me, just looking at me. It made me feel uneasy, being under someone's gaze like that. I hated being the center of attention, even with just one person. I mean, I liked knowing they were listening to me when I talked, but when you're just being stared at, as if they're analyzing you, it makes me nervous.

"No," he answered after that long, terribly long, pause. Alright, it was more like five seconds, but time perception was never my best guess. "I don't." I frowned as he finished. I hate those stupid, tantalizing pauses.

"Alright, well, can I ask you if you believe in something else?" He half-grinned at me, a bit amused apparently. I get that a lot, those amused grins. I don’t understand why though. I mean…I didn’t ask anything amusing, did I? I would sigh if it wouldn’t bring me another one of those looks, stupid amused looks.

"I guess you can." I bit my lip for a moment, looking to the side, thinking of how I wanted to word it. He just sat there quietly, waiting for me to ask my question.

"Okay, so I know you don't believe in true love, but do you believe in love? I'm not talking 'I want to grow old, spending eighty-five years of marriage, and die with you,' love, or the 'I wake up in the morning with a smile on my face because I can feel your body right next to mine, feeling so thankful that you were there for me to sleep next to last night' love.

“The love where you're with someone and you wake up to go at it, have sex in the middle of the day, and even before you go to sleep, or let's hold each other's hands in public or you have your arms around my shoulders, while I put mine around your waist, looping my thumb through your belt loop, not that kind of love." I realized that I was going into this long winded definition of what I felt true love was, but it was necessary. I think.

"Not the love where you can't stop thinking about the person, in a healthy manner, of course." He laughed and I smiled. "The one where it seems like you're not listening, but you're really listening to every word they say. And you surprise that person by doing something that you remember they said they liked. The kind where it hurts and scares you to death because you never realized that you could care that much for one person and the idea of them being with someone else causes this terrible, lonely ache in your heart.

“The one where you try not to be jealous, but you can't help feeling like knocking someone else's lights out because they looked at the person you love. ..." I took a breath, and he chuckled, raising an amused eyebrow at me. Again, was I really being amusing? I suppose so…

"Not that kind of love because...that's true love." I bit my lip again, thinking. "But love, like the ‘I want to be around you a lot, but it's not really all that necessary for my health. Let's talk a lot, but doesn't have to be every day, when we're not together that is. The love where you're not necessarily living together, but you go on dates, and you know you could spend a good majority of your time with them.

“Love that just makes you feel happy, and you look forward to being with the person, having sex, and all that, but you don't really feel a loss when they're not sleeping right next to you. Or you haven't talked to them for a few days, because that just happens. Just that regular, I love you, I love you too, kind of love." I had been looking at him the entire time I went through my little rant on love and true love, but I feel like I had gone into my own little world for a bit.

He stared at me for a bit, crossing his arms over his chest. I looked back at him, giving him a half a smile.

"That kind of love, do you, at least, believe in that?" He just kept looking at me, like he was contemplating if I was okay in the head or something. I raised my own eyebrow at him, to which he grinned another amused grin.

"Perhaps not to the extent that you described it, which mind you, was a little hard to keep up with. But I guess I do believe in that kind of love." I furrowed my eyebrows a little.

"You guess you do?"

"I mean, I do believe in love. Love for your family, your friends, but loving someone who isn't either to that kind of extent." He shrugged. "I don't really know if I believe in that. I believe in like and in lust. Perhaps love for one night, but...I can't really say."

"You can't just love someone for one night," I argued. "Love isn't that inconsequential. It’s more than just one night. Lust can be for one night; it could be for an hour, maybe a few minutes because your mind is in a haze and you didn’t really see the person that you thought you were, kind of like you’re drunk.” I shook my head. "Love is so much bigger than that, but it doesn't have to be as big as thinking of true love." I gave him a small, apologetic smile.

"I'm sorry; it's just...I guess I can't understand not believing in something, that yea, can be painful, but can be so wonderful too. It's like being happy, but it doesn't go away as easily as happiness can. It's that one thing that, perhaps not everyone, but I definitely look for. To be loved by someone else, someone who is your friend, yet they’re so much more than that." I looked down at my hands, feeling his eyes still on me.

"I know I'm ranting a lot, and don't get me wrong; there are days where I just think 'screw love, it's nothing but bullshit,' but at the end of the day, before I go to sleep. I know I didn't mean it; I just want to know what it's like. I want to feel what it seems to make everyone else so happy, feel less alone." I looked up, smiling at him. I wrinkled my nose. "I'm a sap, I know. Hopeless romantic, really, but it works for me."

"You're really wordy, you know that?" I stuck my tongue out at him a bit. Childish, I know.

"It happens when I'm passionate about something." He smiled, and beamed a cheesy smile. It’s a flare for the dramatics, really.

"And you're passionate about love?" I nodded, raising an eyebrow that went with a look that said, ‘Uh...duh?’

"Yea," I nodded again, looking down before looking back at him. "I am." I laughed a few moments after that, and he raised his eyebrow at me. "Sorry, sorry, it's just...I just realized that I spilled this huge mush of my ideas on love and true love, and I know your name. Yet, you don't know mine." He grinned again.

He seems to do that a lot. Just grin. I wonder what it would be like if he smirked. I've seen it in pictures, and it's really sexy, but what would it be like in person? I pursed my lips to the side. I bet it’d be ‘melt into a puddle’ sexy.

"Do you want to know my name?” I asked. I said he didn't know it, but that doesn't necessarily mean that he wants to know it.

"What's your name?" I smiled. Well, he could just be being polite, but then again, I feel like Tom is the sort of person that if he really didn’t care to know your name; he wouldn’t ask. He’s the ‘badass’ type, or the ‘wannabe badass’ type. He’s just…type, a sexy type, but a ‘insert whatever here’ type.

"Not telling you," I sing-songed, closing my laptop. I grabbed my bag, standing up and picking up my laptop from the table. I grinned as he raised his eyebrow at me again. I stood behind his chair, which technically made me standing at his side, since he was sitting sideways. "It's kind of embarrassing to have to just said all that to a person, especially a person that I don't know." I gasped lightly. "Mom'll kill me for talking to a stranger."

He chuckled, and I just smiled, not knowing where this playful courage came from. I swear it always pops up out of nowhere, and I feel like if I don’t start learning to control it; it’ll get me into trouble.

“So, I’m not going to tell you my name.” Again, he raised that eyebrow. “I will tell you this though,” and I paused there. See everyone hates those pauses, but not when they’re the ones using them.

He looked at me, grinning amusedly still always with the amused grin. “What?” He asked and I smiled at him again.

“You may not believe in it, but one of these days, it just may smack you in the face. Kind of like walking into a sliding glass door that you didn’t realized was closed.” I patted his shoulder with my free hand. “Be careful though; don’t really walk into sliding glass doors. I assure you; it hurts.” I went to walk away, and then stopped. I turned and looked at him.

“But realizing you love someone doesn’t hurt like it’d hurt to walk into a glass door. I was really more thinking about the surprise of walking into a glass door…” I furrowed my eyebrows, having probably confused not only him, but myself. He laughed though, giving me another look like I was mentally lost, which in some cases, I probably was.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he teased, nodding, and then just shook his head as he laughed at me again.

I made a face at him, sticking my tongue out again. “Well, so long as you don’t give me this really terrible name for when you’re telling, if you’re telling, your friends about this crazy girl who was passionate about love and talked about walking into glass doors; I’m okay with that.” I scratched my head, furrowing my eyebrows.

“That’s a really long-winded name…don’t use that one either. Let’s go with…Crazy girl fascinated with love and sliding glass doors.” I grinned as he laughed at me again. “It’s not as long, but has the same general meaning.” I gave him a small wave. “Bye,” I said, and with that, I finally made my way out of the café.

See, I said that I couldn’t go up to him; I never said that I couldn’t talk and ask him the question if he came up to me. Of course, I made a slight idiot out of myself, which isn’t unusual if I think about it. My friend is going to kill me for not telling her that he was there. I don’t know how it was possible that I happened to run into him at the café that I just so happened to go to, but it’d certainly make for a good story. Then again, maybe I’ll keep this to myself.

I grinned as I walked down the sidewalk; the sun’s rays warming my skin. I found out some not so happy news, but left feeling much better due to an unexpected conversation. I knew I’d never run into him again. It was highly unlikely that I was that lucky, and even though the conversation was short and mostly one-sided. It was nice. I really hoped that one day he does end up in love, especially with someone who loves him back. Because no matter the terrible way things go, and how things end up for people, I know it’ll be something great. It’s just got to be.