Read Life Ain't A Fairy Tale Online
Authors: Miguel Rivera
Tags: #romance, #erotica, #tragedy, #cancer, #friends, #mexico, #young adult, #couples, #new jersey, #biotechnology
In the past, I openly told my feelings to the
girls I liked. It is not their fault they reject me. Since I don't
believe in love, I didn't play the game most boys play to trick the
girls into thinking they love them. I always wanted a girl to like
me the way I am, not some phony bad boy prototype. I always took
the approach of telling them directly that I loved them. However,
to get a girlfriend, you can't be so open in expressing your
feelings because that's not the right way when you have no
charisma. The women got scared and rejected my love declaration.
What was the point of the women's rights movement, if women
continue to behave the same way they did before the movement? I
wish they asked me out for a change.
I saw how my friends got their dates drunk in
the club, but I refuse to use that strategy. To me, that is
cheating. More importantly, I find it foolish to have my first
relationship begin with random drunk sex the first night. I don't
want that. In fact, I have never become interested in any woman at
first sight. My infatuations are delayed. It takes at least three
months of seeing a woman before I develop amorous feelings.
How did I end up with a date tomorrow night?
For once, I wasn't myself and played the love game: no romance, no
compliments, and no mushiness of any kind. I pretended to be overly
self-confident and sure of myself. The ladies love that superficial
crap in a guy. Tired of being rejected so much, I gave them the
ideal man according to society. Being humble like myself was never
going to work. I did not even say the word "date" when I spoke with
her.
Previously, I had two consecutive semesters
of Anatomy & Physiology classes with her during my last college
year. I earned my Bachelor's Degree in Biology. We got along very
well as lab partners. I missed the time we spent together studying.
I hoped to continue my association with her after college, but I
was too shy to ask her phone number. I will never forget her.
Sara earned a Bachelor's Degree and a
Master's Degree in Biotechnology that helped her land a job in the
pharmaceutical industry. She is working at a pharmaceutical
company, Biopharm, for the last two years. She uses analytical
techniques called HPLC-MS/MS to isolate and identify the major
components of the medications being made for cancer treatment. This
is important because you want to make sure the active ingredient of
the medicine does not form radical intermediates that can be toxic
to the cancer patients.
On my end, stress forced me to stop my
education at a Bachelor's Degree in Biology. I almost couldn't
finish my last semester because spontaneous panic attacks were
making it difficult to attend classes. My first panic attack
happened while doing a Powerpoint Presentation in class about
cancer. I thought I was going to faint during the presentation, but
I was too embarrassed to say anything. When I went to the primary
doctor, I was prescribed anti-anxiety medicine. The medication
didn't make me feel well. Studying less for the final exams helped
me finish all the classes.
After the semester ended, a Psychiatrist
prescribed me anti-depression medicine in order to become a normal
person without panic attacks again. The anti-anxiety medicine did
not relax me as much because my body grew tolerance to it. The
anti-depression medicine did the trick for me.
Currently, I work as a college tutor. My job
as a part time Algebra and Biology tutor is not even close in
importance to her job. It serves my needs and helps pay the bills.
I am a very low maintenance fellow who feels a sense of pride for
helping out students understand the class material.
After almost 5 years of not seeing her, I
invited her to a restaurant through a visual online social network
chat. She is Mexican like me with black hair like mine. I added her
to my friends' list not too long ago on the online social network.
I discovered her birthday on her social network profile. From my
past chats with her on the web, she is now doing research on new
experimental medicines to treat cancers arising from AEG-1 gene
over expression.
When the visual chat began on the PC, I
invited her to a restaurant. When she asked why, I simply said, "To
celebrate your birthday."
"Jimmy, my birthday passed months ago."
"Well, it's not my fault I didn't know. I
have to give you my birthday present as soon as possible. Going out
to eat is your birthday present."
"No. You don't have to do that."
"What? Are you saying I'm not worthy enough
to give you a present? Miss Queen of Spain, your royal highness." I
feigned outrage.
"No, wait...no, no, no. Hold on one sec." She
answered nervously and apologetically. Her face showed concern.
"Yes, you should be sorry... but I...forgive
you...if you let me give you a present, damn it."
"Okay, okay...oh my god, you crazy
sometimes..." she gave me a jokingly suspicious stare.
"I hate driving, too. As you may remember, I
waited for my father to pick me up after classes?" It was about me
admitting my faults, but preserving my self-confidence. Women like
that crap in a man. It pained me to act the way society
expects.
"Wow, you still don't drive." Her facial
expression showed disappointment.
"Nope." My stance was firm. I showed no
weakness at her disappointment. I sat up straight looking into the
camera of my monitor with poise and pride.
"Fine. You are going to pay the whole bill at
the restaurant. Right?"
"Of course. It's your birthday, Sara."
"Okay. Text me where to pick you up
tomorrow."
"Sure, I will Sara."
Sara's brown eyes captivate me as well as
other things. Despite my complaints of superficiality in society, I
am also a little superficial. Not only are her brown eyes
enchanting, but also her smile and her long black hair to the
waist. Everything else about her is not important to me. The fact
that she is one inch taller than me, has radiant light-tan skin,
has a straight body type with healthy body mass, and has well
formed thighs are irrelevant to me. The important thing is that she
is a college graduate like me.
Few hours are left before I see her as I
prepare for my first date. I bathe to make sure that I still smell
clean when we meet at the restaurant. As I finish cleaning and
getting out of the bathtub, I look in the mirror. My beard is
already showing and has become a curse for me because it grows too
quickly. It makes me look older. I put shaving spray on my face.
When I shave off the beard, I do look much pleasing to the eye and
younger. My head hair is all over the place when I get out of the
shower. After I comb my hair and add gel to it, I manage my black
hair into a Princeton hairstyle.
In my teenage years, I had a very low
self-esteem. I looked in the mirror with hesitation. I saw myself
as the ugly and the most despicable thing alive. I saw my forehead
as too big for my face. To address this perceived problem, I combed
my hair down, covering half of my forehead. My parents claimed and
swore I was beautiful, but I never believed them. The only thing I
liked about myself was my body, but that is always covered with
clothing.
Now, older and wiser, I look back at old
pictures of myself to see a very good-looking teenager. The only
problem I had back then was acne. Everyone has that problem when
they are young. Truth be told, I was better looking before than
now. I did not wear glasses either at that time. I still maintain
the same hairstyle since my teenage years. Unlike before when I was
young, I now expose my forehead with pride.
What a difference does having a high
self-esteem makes in terms of how I view myself physically today. I
don't know why I judged myself like that. To this very day, I still
struggle maintaining a high self-esteem. I don't work out at all.
My body is normal looking with a small belly. My thighs, legs, and
butt are my greatest assets. That has never changed for me.
My face got wider since my younger days, but
it is not because of the weight gain. I gained about 15 pounds of
weight since I first entered high school. My face got wider after
the weight gain. It used to be oval-shaped. Now, it is a little
rounder. Despite that change, my face still looks acceptable. I
look more like my father.
Mother and father are excited about me
finally going out. They are in their late sixties. My parents are
anxious to see me settle down with a woman. They don't want to
leave me alone when they die. They always presented girls they knew
to me. Unfortunately, my shyness and low self-esteem didn't help me
get any of these girls. Without intention, I tormented my parents
every time I said to them, "I am going to be single forever."
In terms of personality, my parents are very
different from me. They love to talk a lot while I am a man of a
few words. I speak only to be a part of society. They are also very
vain and prideful. They always tell me to fix my hair and clothing,
but I always dress well. You wouldn't believe they are my parents.
I don't care what other people think of me. My parents even care
about what strangers they don't know think of them.
For my date with Sara, I am wearing black
jeans, white and black sneakers, and a beige dress shirt. There is
nothing overtly wrong when I dress myself to go out. They always
see a little flaw somewhere in my clothing. It bothers me when they
obsess with me looking perfect, but I let them say and do whatever
they want because I know how they are.
Today, they advise me to be nice and
talkative in my date with Sara.
"Remember to talk. Don't be sitting there
quietly during the ride to the restaurant and when you eat at the
restaurant." My mother advises me.
"Don't worry. He is a college graduate. He
can talk, but don't talk too much. Don't overdo it. Do it when it
makes sense." My father argues back.
"I just want to, at least, make sure they
stay friends after this date." My mother disputes my father's
argument.
"Your hair is standing up a little at the
back of your head. Sit still...I'm going to put gel and comb it
down." My father rushes to get the comb. There is nothing wrong
with my hair, trust me.
"The t-shirt under your dress shirt is
wrinkled. Let me fix it." My mother straightens it out.
"Oh, I heard a car beeping outside. Let's
check if it's her." My father takes note.
At the front of the house, we look through
the windows in the living room to confirm it is she. She told me
she would come in a four-door white convertible. That is the same
car waiting for me outside.
"Oh sweetie, have a good time. You look so
beautiful, just like a prince. May God bless you, son. She is going
to love you." My mother kisses me good-bye on the cheek.
"Of course, he is a macho man. Look at how
good he looks in those clothes." My father hugs me tightly.
Leaving the house, I walk down the steps to
get into her car. As I enter the car, we greet each other. She
wears a black and white striped blouse with short sleeves and blue
jeans. Her long hair is trimmed to shoulder length. Sara still
looks attractive with her expressive brown eyes, her pink lipstick,
her beautiful light tan skin color, and her modest makeup. She
looks very sexy when she handles the steering wheel in the driver's
seat. I refrain from complimenting her because I might scare her
away.
"Do you like Spanish music?" I ask. She has
an English radio station on.
"Yeah, I listen to that, too."
"Really. I used to like English music a lot
when I was younger. I listen to Spanish music more now. I like
their beats." I am a man of few words. I know that today, I will
have to be the opposite of myself if I want to win her heart.
"Really. You know, I listen to anything. I
like music I can dance to. I listen to many types of music. I even
listen to Brazilian music."
"That is cool." I also had to keep my cool. I
can't look like I'm drooling over her, even though I am on the
inside. Women don't like desperate men or men with low self-esteem.
I am internally repeating to myself, "Be confident. Be confident.
You are the best."
After half an hour of driving, we arrive at
the restaurant. I help her sit in her chair. We look at the menu.
She orders salads and a lot of vegetables with soda. I am not a
vegetarian. I order what I like best: chicken, rice, bread, and
soda. I always eat with my hands, but the occasion forces me to eat
with knife and fork. We eat placidly and start talking.
Chapter 2
"Tell me about yourself Sara. Were you born
here? What is your life story? You know, in general. Feel free to
share only what you want." I am very self-conscious of talking and
eating at the same time. I make sure that I am done chewing before
I speak to her. I also have a habit of slouching forward when I am
sitting down. This makes me look weak, and women love strong men.
Now, I sit up prideful and straight at all times. I am forced to
play the love game.
"Well, okay. Yeah, I was born here. I am the
daughter of my two biggest loves in the world, my parents. They are
the cutest couple in the world. They always like to go out dancing.
My sister and I are bffs. Unfortunately, I don't see her as much.
She moved to New York."
After I am done chewing, I speak again. "Wow,
that is really far away from Jersey."
"What? Are you crazy? It's right next-door.
You're sort of right. I don't see her as often as before. It was a
horror story for my parents and I. It was difficult to see my older
sister move out. I really loved being together with her, but she
wanted to become a famous singer. My parents wanted her in college.
My sister is stubborn. No one could do anything about it." Sara
makes a sad face as she tells me this.