HIM by Brittney Cohen-Schlesinger

happy.”
                  “Precisely,” he grinned.  I could listen to him talk for hours.
    “You have this way about you, Jensen, that I can’t quite understand.  But at the same time, I get you.”  At least I thought I did.
    Jensen’s smile was warm.  “It’s truly astonishing how sweet and loving you are.  You light up every room you enter with your kind words and beautiful smile.”
    Without delay heat rose up to my cheeks and I was blushing once more.
    “You think too highly of me.”
                  “Or maybe you don’t think highly enough of yourself?”
                  “Touché,” I responded, smiling to myself.
                  “Tory has told me what you’ve done for her recently.”
                  “Told you what?  All we did was watch a movie and go through some old pictures,” I chuckled.
                  “That’s more than enough, don’t you think?” he smiled.
                  “I guess so.”
                  “You’re a very caring person.  Don’t forget that.”
                  Man, oh man, he’s amazing.
    This night had gone even better than the one before.  It seemed unreal, almost illusory.  I noticed when I said things about Jensen unreal was the first word to pop into my head.  It seemed like he wasn’t truly here with me or even in existence – that he was all an unbelievably vivid allusion in my psychotic brain.
    Jensen Marx was faultless and dreamlike.  I had to convince myself that maybe – just maybe – someone human could be this way.  Someone so gracious and bighearted could actually want someone like me – ruined and unaided – afraid of the unknown and even more fearful of what I did know because it all could turn on me someday.  Yet he thought I was sane.  For what reason?  I didn’t know.  And a part of me didn’t want to find out.  I liked that he thought I was normal, whatever that meant.
                  “Jensen?”
                  “Yes?”
                  “Just wondering,” I began, not sure how to say what I wanted without sounding skeptical, “but how many girls have you treated this well on a date?”
                  “Just one,” he paused, “you.”  A crooked smile appeared on his glowing face.  “You don’t seem to think so.”
                  “No, no.  It’s just that…you’re so different from other guys.  I just can’t believe you haven’t found…your one and only yet.”
                  “Don’t be so sure about that.”  He bit his bottom lip and stared at his feet as we walked.
                  “Are you saying you’re in love with me?”  I stuck out my tongue in a teasing manner.
                  “Not necessarily.”  He mimicked the tongue ordeal.  “I just feel a deep connection with you – something no other woman has accomplished before.  Ever.”
                  “Hmm, I see.”  Butterflies fluttered around in my stomach.
    Hope was now on my mind.  Hope that he and I would have a fairytale ending and live happily-ever-after, hope that he was the one to love and protect me for the rest of our lives, hope that I would get over my past problems to commit my thoughts only to Jensen’s goodness, his kindness.  Jensen would be mine in no time, I was sure of it.
                  Was I afraid?  Yes.  Was I uncertain as to what might happen between us?  Yes.  But truthfully did I want to know?  No.  Because life wouldn’t be exciting if I did know.
    …Although there was a part of me that wished I could only see the bad things coming my way.  If I had my own approach to this I’d let the good things in life be surprises.
                  “Are you tired?” he asked.
                  “Not at all.”
    It was a little after twelve