When I was eighteen, my brother bought me a house across from Julian's. I was about to move in when Julian suddenly broke up with his girlfriend.
His close friend told me Jennie had taken money from Julian's mother to study abroad, leaving him behind.
Julian was devastated and drank heavily.
When he came back drunk, he pressed me against the wall and kissed me fiercely until tears came from the corners of my eyes.
It was the first time he had crossed a line with me in six years.
From that day on, he drowned himself in alcohol daily.
Until late one night, Julian looked at me and smiled drunkenly.
"Wanda, will you be my girlfriend?"
I stared into his eyes, hesitating for a long time before asking, "If I become your girlfriend, will you stop being so sad?"
He nodded vigorously, then pulled me into a hug. "Yes, if you become my girlfriend, I would be so, so happy!"
"Okay, then I'll be your girlfriend from now on," I said.
The moment the words left my mouth, tears streamed down my face.
I knew I did.
What his confession meant at this moment and what my impulsive agreement signified.
But did it matter?
I just wanted Julian to be happy.
He had protected me for six years; it was all I could do for him!