You were walking down a lonely road, wondering what your purpose is. After all you've been through; being lonely for the majority of your schooling career and being bullied, you wondered if there ever was a miracle that could change anything in your life.
You are a good person; you've never done anyone harm, even if they deserved it. You come to the aid of younger, vulnerable people and provided them with empathy; if not, more. But you often felt like you were never recognised for your small but meaningful efforts.
Coming to a park bench, you sit down, and stare at the maple leaves swirling around your feet. As you closed your eyes, you leaned to the side, and bumped into the shoulders of another being. You turned and saw your best friend, Matthew Williams (Canada). You smiled, acknowledging of his humanity despite being a country. Rather than gawk at him, you befriended him. What's the difference when he despite being a country he displayed traits of a human being?
You noticed a shy, quiet guy with messy strawberry blonde hair sitting all alone cuddling a polar bear tightly. He was wearing a winter military style coat, boots, and green pants. He seemed left out from his friends, who were sitting near him, but failed to acknowledge his existence. His face was droopy; trying to smile but his sadness and desperation was clear on his face.
Rather than that, you sat next to him. You introduced yourself, and so did he as Matthew.
"Wait…you can see me." He stuttered slowly.
You scoffed "Well, yeah, of course I can see you. Why don't you think I cannot see you?"
"I….I just don't get noticed often….I rarely do." He whispered.
"Maybe you need to talk louder."
"I do…but…" his head flopped down slowly, his glasses sliding down his nose. It looked like he was holding back tears, so instead you took his hand and offered to carry his thermos while walking in the autumn backstreets. You two began chatting about yourselves then you moved onto talking about international affairs. Matthew said he was a diplomat student, and you replied that you were a Commerce student, interested in trade and economics.
"We might make a team sometime." You remarked, coming to a bridge which overlooked the park.
"Yeah (Reader), I think it's a way to resolve all international conflict, I suppose."
"It's a shame that we are always fighting. I guess that's the cost of having a colourful world that things will clash." You think aloud.
You turn to face him.
"I just…I dunno what to say about your never-ending kindness."
His polar bear wriggled free from his grasp, letting him grip your arms; gently but firm.
"No, this means everything to me. I am never noticed by my fellow Nat-friends. Yes, I'm never seen or spoken to. They cannot even remember my name or even my existence."
"No, but you do exist, my dear Canadian. I'll show you."
You pull out your I-pod and headphones from your trench coat pocket and you scroll through your playlist; Carley Rae Jepsen, Avril Lavigne, Michael Buble, Celine Dion, K.D Lang, Alanis Moressette.
"I daren't have Justin Bieber….it's just too-" you cringe and make a nasally 'uggh' sound, making the Canadian chuckle softly.
You two share the headphones and listen to a few songs; mainly Celine Dion songs as they were fitting for the walk.
"Matthew, you want to know why I'm showing you this?"
"These are the biggest acts in the world, but did you know they are like you; they are native Canadians?"
Matthew's eyes widened in surprise.
"Even that Beiber?"
"Yes, him too. Best weapon of all time; gets fangirls and scares men and haters away!"
You both laugh and sit down on a bench enjoying the park. Then his pager goes off and he bids you farewell.
"We'll meet again sometime?"
"And…thank you for…showing me that I am worth something special."
You would never forget his joyful face.
*End Flash Back*
He sat next to you in the same attire he met you in. You also wore the same trench coat when you met him and wore black riding pants and Doc Martens. You lean on his shoulder, letting two tears fall down your face, but Matthew's gloved hand caught the tears, tilting your face towards his.
"(Reader) what's wrong?" his violet eyes dancing in concern and pain.
"I…I cannot do it anymore. I've tried and I've tried...am I worth it?" You choke. Matthew's face dropped; shock and sadness splashed all over his face.
"W-Why? Please don't go, I-I-" he suddenly grabbed you around your torso and cried into your shoulder.
"I-I never get recognised, or seen or noticed for everything I've done. I did so much, and I've tried so hard…." you struggled to say.
"But…I notice you. Every time I see your face and I know that I am noticed and seen….and…maybe…" Matthew said, looking up into your eyes.
"Yes?" you say.
"I….I feel like, everyday when you send me a message, I feel overjoyed, and all my burden on my shoulders are lifted off me and…..I always feel happy when I am around you, even if we do get into silly fights….I just… You're the nicest person I've ever met. The kindest, the most tolerant, and the most…I'm at lost on how to describe you. Even if you were bullied, you refused to harm those who did harm to you. And…you stood up for me many times without starting a war. That's almost impossible..."
The creases of a smile crept up on you.
"(Reader), will you still be with me if I told you something?"
"(Reader), I am…not entirely human….I am in fact a country. I am….."
"Canada." You finish softly, wiping away your tears.
"How do you-"
You pull out a bottle of Maple Syrup you stole from his pocket as a slight of hand trick, explaining your hunch.
"I was wondering why you carry this around wherever you go, or why you could lift up a moose with your pinky…" you say. Canada's face dropped a little, but you smile and laugh, giving it back to him.
"No, of course, even if you are a country, I still accept you for who you are. I mean, you are the sweetest guy I've ever met, and certainly out do a lot of normal boys. Why should I give up on a deal like you?" you laugh, receiving a sigh of relief from Canada.
"So…" he started
The air suddenly changed, and you felt Canada's hand brush up against yours, making your whole body heat up and hair stand on end.
"(Reader)...do you….like me?" his eyes puppy-like and shy. He looked like he was about to be hit on he head, but trusting that you wouldn't do that. He turned away slightly.
You roll your eyes.
"Canada, my mind was made up a long time ago."
And without warning and out of impulse from the moment, you pull him into a kiss, your arms wrapped around his back and squishing the polar bear tightly. Although he was in shock first, he shyly kissed back.
"No, I don't like you….I love you." You say between a kiss and a smile.
His gloved fingers ran through your hair, and he blew back warm, sweet-scented (Maple-syrup scented!) air down your neck with a kiss.
"Will you migrate?" he whispered; his eyes soft, sleepy, and romantic.
"I've already defected."