Don't Fall in Love
Igarashi Mirai
Don't fall for me. Didn't I tell you again and again not to fall for me? Wasn't that one of the first things I told you? I told you not to fall for me and look at where we are now. I never expected it to end up like this. The thought had never once even crossed my mind. You told me you would never fall in love with me and I believed you but this is how we end up….
I'm June. I wasn't born in the month of June, I was born in August. My parents weren't married in the month of June. I wasn't conceived in the month of June. There is no significance to my name. My parents saw it on a calendar when they were learning English and thought it sounded pretty. They wanted to give me an American name; they thought it would give me a better chance at life in America. June sounded very American. So they named me June. Fortunately – or unfortunately, I've decided – I was born a girl.
My name is June. I'm a girl. And I'm gay.
I'm the second oldest of four, ending with my only brother. I'm nineteen and I just finished my first year of college. I was free for the first time in my life and I was happy. My family was devastated. My brother and sisters were lost without me, calling for advice or a friendly voice. My younger sister's name is Kitty. She hates cats. She has a boyfriend now and while I was away, she would cry on the phone to me almost every day. Those times when she was crying, I could tell she was in so much pain. But all those other days, she would talk about nothing but him.
She would tell me that being in love was the greatest feeling in the world. She told me that having someone there to lean on and talk to made her feel lighter. She would tell me about their dates and conversations and in the same breath she would cry about their arguments and disagreements. She would tell me that love was the most painful thing in the world. She would tell me that being with someone was a waste of time. She told me that it wasn't worth the pain.
I think she's wrong. I think it's worth the pain to find someone to love and someone who loves you. I think, when you find that person, you don't just lean on them. I think you do everything you can to make them feel loved, to show them what's in your heart. Having someone you love is worth the pain and torment that goes along with it.
My older sister's name is Cherry. She never graduated college and instead married a man who did. Alone she is mature and responsible, but when she's with him she is clumsy and nervous. She gets excited an hour before he finishes work and can't sit still. She used to call me to pass the time until he would come back home. She told me that love was hard to find. She told me that people spend their entire lives searching for love and wanting to be loved. She said that when you find it, it's worth the wait. She said that there is one person out there for everyone, looking just as hard for their whole lives just to find that one person to love.
I think she's wrong. I think that we can love again and again. I think that there are many different people out there for each of us so that when our hearts break, they can be healed by someone else. But I think that if I find one person that I can love, just one person, I will give them everything for the time that I love her and for the time that she loves me. I don't want to fall in love with someone who won't love me back. If she isn't in love, I want to move on. I never seem to get what I want.
You're laughing at me, aren't you? I'm saying everything and you're laughing at me. I understand. If I were you, I'd laugh, too.
We met during orientation, didn't we? That small group of us who met then, we all became close friends. Almost all of my friends are your friends, too, so I can't talk to them about this. I wasn't in love with you, but I found you attractive. You hair was just past your shoulders. It was red but I found out later that you had dyed it: it was really blonde. You have green-gray eyes. I have a weakness for gray eyes. It wasn't just those things that I found attractive, you know. You're musical and funny with knowledge of the obscure ranging far beyond comprehension. You're determined and steadfast. I think that's what I found most attractive, aside from your gray eyes.
When the dye started washing out, I found you more attractive. I decided then that you were my type but I didn't love you. I wanted to find someone like you to love. But not you: you were my close friend. But I want to give the person I do love the best I can give. Perfection requires practice and the person I would give my heart to in the future would deserve perfection. And so, I came up with a proposal: let me pretend to be your girlfriend and treat you as I would the person I loved until I found someone who I really did love. It was perfect.
I saw only one flaw: what if you fell in love with me? When I asked you, I posed one condition. I made you swear that you would never fall for me. "Sounds like I'm getting all the benefits from this. I'm straight so you don't have to worry about that. I won't ever fall in love with you. So it's a deal." You said you wouldn't fall in love. I never even dreamed that something could go wrong.
I asked around for the best restaurants and took you to them. I always dressed my best and always drove. I always paid, or tried to depending on your mood. I checked reviews for all the movies and took you to the best. I went shopping with you and carried all your bags, or tried to depending on your mood. I opened doors for you and pulled out chairs…or tried to…. We lived in different buildings but I stayed with you every night until you fell asleep, holding your hand, before I went back to my dorm on the other side of campus. Being your fake girlfriend was entirely different than being your friend and I realized now that practice with you had been the right choice. But I enjoyed it. If this was what it felt like to be doing these things for my pretend love, then what would it feel like when I was truly in love?
One day, I gave you flowers. "The flowers you gave me died. They were beautiful at first, but when they started dying they were ugly and withered. June, don't give flowers like these to the person you love. If you give someone flowers that die, it feels like those feelings are going to die out eventually as well." I was careful to note the advice for the future.
Next time, I gave you a potted flower. "This is better. It's sweet and charming, but I have to take care of it. I can't do that…." Again, I noted your words. I knew you loved flowers and I was determined to find some way to give them to you: a way that satisfied the both of us.
I decided to give you fake flowers. I found a beautiful fake rose and handed it to you. You frowned. "A fake flower says that you don't care." You were seemingly impossible to please, but I knew that I had to please you. This was essential for my future well-being.
This time, I waited longer. I studied and read and practiced and finally, I gave you another fake flower. But this was one I had made. I was ashamed by its minor flaws and imperfections despite my hard, desperate work. A satisfied smile crossed your lips as you took the flower and your eyes widened in surprise. "You made it, right? And added perfume? That was clever. You've finally given me the perfect flower."
It wasn't for you. It was for my future love….not for you. After you fell asleep and I got back to my room, you called me. "Do you love me?" I squirmed and answered that I didn't. I don't know when it happened, but somehow a question that was so comfortable had become awkward and painful.
I wanted to do something special for you on your birthday. I had it planned: your favorite restaurant and then we'd go back to my room to watch your favorite movies. You love chocolate so I bought all your favorites. But you called me and told me that you didn't want to go out. I still have all those chocolates, you know. I know you're laughing at me now, still saving all those chocolates. You know I don't like sweets much. I was determined to do something special. So I learned to cook…or tried to.
Do you remember that day I looked so tired? That was because I set the fire alarm trying to bake some chicken. It hadn't worked entirely well and I had almost set fire to my dorm building. On the other side of campus, you slept through it. I gave up on trying to cook and instead asked a friend who you didn't know. I was determined to make your birthday perfect. Were you surprised that there was someone standing in front of my room that day, dressed in a white shirt and black pants, to take your coat? I could tell you were surprised when you walked into my room. I had spent the day arranging it: hid most of my furniture and moved the desk so that it looked like a dinner table. I had placed cloth over it and had borrowed good chairs, not the ones provided by the school, from a friend. The room was dark but lit by a candle.
I can't tell when you started to glow, but you glowed that night. You were beautiful. I swallowed as my heart jumped into my throat, swallowed hard. I hoped at that moment that you wouldn't ask whether or not I loved you. I realized then that I was and I didn't want to lie to you on your birthday. My friend handed us menus. There were only one or two choices but you lit up as you read the neat-typed menu that was clearly my design. I had misspelled one of the words and had attempted to change it in my messy scrawl. You didn't want to go out to a restaurant that night, but I still took you to one.
You celebrated that weekend. You went to a party. I had to study for an exam and I had left it until the last minute. I couldn't go with you. I couldn't study either. I checked my phone constantly for the time. You had told me that you would be back by one o'clock in the morning. It was past two. I was frantic but I refused to call you: I didn't want to come across as obsessed. I wondered where you were, what you were doing, who you were with…if you were falling in love. And finally, my phone rang. "Do you love me?" You were drunk. It was the first thing you asked me.
I couldn't lie to you. But I did anyway. Happy birthday to the girl I love….
You promised me that you wouldn't fall in love with me. Look at us now. You kept your promise. And what about me? I'm in love with the same person who I had made swear that she would never love me back.