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Late nights spent at Britta’s apartment were starting to become a familiar part of Jeff’s life.
With everyone else gone — off to do all these great, fantastical things — Britta and Jeff were still in Colorado, trying their best not to fall apart.
Music was blasting from Britta’s two cheap, but extremely loud, speakers. One of them was hot pink. Jeff hated how much he loved it.
Britta sang along to the song playing, as out of tune as always. She pointed at Jeff to sing the next line, and he did, reluctantly. Britta beamed as he sang, and she started dancing around, swinging her hips and throwing her arms around very inelegantly. It was somehow extremely endearing.
The song was a sappy one, about love and romance. Jeff felt a painful ache — a longing, really — in his heart that he couldn’t even begin to explain.
He asked Britta to put on something without lyrics next.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love,” Jeff said later that night, his voice low, quiet, like this was a confession he’d rather not say, rather not have anyone hear. Maybe it was.
Britta turned over to look at him. They were laying on the floor of her bedroom, the fake hardwood digging into their backs.
“No?”
“Nope,” Jeff sighed, rolling his head to the side so he could look at her too.
Jeff thought about all the people he had been with over the years. And he thought about how he didn’t think he had loved any of them like that. He had loved a lot of them, but not that way. Not the way he’d thought he had.
“Me neither,” Britta said. She said it lightly, like the confession was easy for her. Maybe it was.
“Do you think you’re going to?” Jeff asked. “Fall in love, I mean.”
Britta scrunched up her face, thought for a brief moment, then said, “No, I don’t think so.”
And Jeff rolled his head so he was looking up at the ceiling again. He hadn’t wanted to hear that. But he also had. He didn’t know what he’d wanted to hear. He didn’t know what he wanted.
“Why not?” Jeff asked.
Silence. Jeff thought about Troy and Abed, about their relationship, and how he wished he could have something like that.
“I’ve tried to fall in love,” Britta said eventually. “I’ve tried it a lot of times. I’ve tried to feel anything romantic for literally anyone, and it hasn’t worked. There have been times where I thought it did, where I was like ‘hell yeah, I’ve finally done it, I’ve finally proven there’s nothing majorly fucked up with me,’ but it was always something else.
“It was a really close friendship, or I just wanted to sleep with them, or I just thought they were nice to look at. But whatever it was, it was never romantic. So after a while, I just gave up.” She shrugged. Jeff didn’t feel like this was something to shrug at. “I realized I don’t want to spend my whole life chasing after something I don’t even know what feels like. If I fall in love one day, then cool, but I honestly don’t I will, so why waste my time trying to make it happen, right?”
“…Right,” Jeff said.
She was right, probably. He didn’t want to admit it. And maybe he did. He still didn’t know what the fuck he wanted.
“And I … uh, I googled it,” Britta continued. “Turns out there’s a name for it. Aromantic.” She said every syllable clearly and slowly, like she wasn’t used to saying the word out loud. “It’s an orientation, like gay or bisexual or whatever, for people who feel little to no romantic attraction.”
Jeff stared at the ceiling. It was white, blank.
“It sounds like a made up internet thing,” Jeff said, forcing himself to sound causal, like this wasn’t turning his whole worldview upside down.
“A lot of things are made up,” Britta said gently. Gently. She almost never talked to him like that. “Some things have just been made up longer than others.”
And Jeff closed his eyes, and he cried, and Britta wrapped her arms around him, and he hated himself, and he didn’t know what he wanted, except for Britta to never, ever, let go of him.
“We’ve got our own flag and everything!” Britta looked so excited that Jeff couldn’t help but match her smile.
It was easier to smile in the morning, Jeff thought as he looked out the window of Britta’s small living room. He had stayed over for the night, both of them deciding that it was probably smart, without either of them actually having to say anything.
The flag Britta currently had up on her computer screen was green, white, gray, and black. Jeff liked it more than he’d thought he would. The rainbow pride flag — while important and valuable and all that, Jeff totally got it — was too much for him, color-wise. This flag was much more his style.
“Isn’t it cool?” Britta asked Jeff. She seemed so excited, so happy to be sharing this with him. It was breaking Jeff from the inside out. He didn’t know why.
“Yeah,” Jeff said. “It’s, uh, it’s cool.”
“Mhm.” Britta nodded vigorously. “And there are all these forums and whatever online, and I’ve already talked to a bunch of people who are also aromantic, and they’re all so cool and smart and I honestly think I’m, like, platonically in love with all of them.”
She kept rambling, moving to and from different websites and whatnot to show Jeff everything she had discovered. It was overwhelming, in both a horribly bad way and an exceptionally good way.
“Isn’t it a little sad, though?” Jeff found himself asking. “Not being able to fall in love?”
He hated the way Britta’s face fell at his question, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret asking it. He needed to know. How could he not be sad about this?
Britta pulled herself together faster than Jeff would’ve expected, answering with a simple and firm, “No.”
“No?” Jeff repeated.
“Nope.” Britta raised her chin and fixed him with a determined look, almost as if daring him to challenge her.
For some reason, that was enough for Jeff.
“Okay,” he shrugged.
Jeff had often been unsure about whether or not he would fall in love. Based on all the movies he’d watched and the way everyone talked about it, it had felt like an inevitability. But as he got older, he had realized that life wasn’t ever that straightforward or easy.
He hadn’t fallen in love yet and he probably never would. So what?
So what?
There was more to life than romance, wasn’t there?
A few days later, music was once again blasting from Britta’s speakers. Jeff and Britta were on her couch, just listening to it. Being in the moment or whatever.
Britta had bought an aromantic flag online and hung it on her bedroom wall. Jeff thought it looked tacky. He loved it.
Britta hummed to the music — a silly tune without any words. She pointed at Jeff. He rolled his eyes, but started humming too.
He felt content. Whole. He didn’t need anything more than what he already had.
It was a nice feeling. To finally know that.