His Sassy Girl

I was about 21 years-old, working as an administrative assistant for a young CEO of a local hospital in north Houston, when I first met Pete. We were having computer issues that day and the CEO told me that our “computer guy” would be stopping by.

Within minutes, a handsome and professional guy walks up to my desk saying the CEO was expecting him. He introduced himself as “Pete”.

"So you’re ‘Pete the Computer Guy’, right?” I asked politely. He gave me a strange look and said, “No, I’m Pete, the doctor.” Pete was a 33 year-old pain management specialist/ surgeon.

I guess I must have been blushing, because he soon erupted in laughter. I saw Pete a few more times in passing, but we never really talked after that. It wasn't until I turned 25, while living and working in San Diego as a journalist that I heard from Pete again.

“I hope you don’t mind me calling you out of the blue, but this is Pete,” he said. “I heard you’re a TV news reporter now and living in California.”

"Pete who?" I asked.

"Pete the Computer Guy," he replied sarcastically.

Turns out, he had gotten my number from the ophthalmologist I had worked for after I left the north Houston hospital. Pete was close friends with both of my former bosses, the CEO of the hospital and the ophthalmologist.

I told him I had just moved to San Diego and was feeling really lonely because I didn't know anyone there. Within a week, a sweet San Diego gal named Joanne called me saying that she was a friend of Dr. Pete’s and that he’d asked her to help me find my way around town. Joanne became my friend in San Diego and Pete became my secret best friend over the phone. 

I never told any of my other friends about Pete, but I revealed everything about myself to him including my fears, pains, and struggles. He had such a calming voice and was a great listener. He was my source of comfort at times when my world was turning upside down.  He was the one who walked in when others walked out.  At the time, I felt like he was my older brother; always watching over and caring for me. His medical background made me feel as if he could actually heal me, even though his expertise was pain management (the physical kind). He gave me advice when I was going through personal problems including matters of the heart. He would always pick up my calls no matter how busy his work was at Baytown’s Methodist Hospital.

When I asked him why he became my friend, his response was that I reminded him of the main character in the Korean hit movie, “My Sassy Girl”, and that he took a real liking to her. He described the girl as being reckless, erratic, bossy, and even abusive towards men. That really irked me.

“Did I make you pout?” he laughed. “Because I can tell you’re pouting over the phone.”

One day Pete revealed to me that he was sick and had to undergo surgery so I had a dozen red roses delivered to his hospital room. I bought a last minute flight back to Houston to see him. Because I didn't have a car, I asked a male friend to drive me to the hospital to see Pete in the ICU. He looked to me like a ghost of his former self; pale and thin. I tried my best to hold back tears and even tried to cheer him up. I playfully hopped onto the hospital bed, took his medical chart and pretended to be his doctor.  With a pencil I found on a nearby table, I starting drawing all over the generic patient body chart sheet from his folder. I sketched a broken heart, a frown, and tears.

“You have a broken heart, Mr. Pete, and I’m going to fix you up,” I said, summoning a weak smile from his face. 

I continued doodling and writing notes for a couple more minutes to distract myself from crying.  It was killing me to see Pete in pain, but I tried to stay upbeat and optimistic for him.  As I was about to erase my silly drawings, Pete snatched the body chart sheet from my fingers, folded it in half and quickly tucked it back into his folder.

"Your doctor is gonna get angry at me," I said.

"It's okay," he replied with a smile as he held the medical chart to his chest.

He then whispered to me that he was going to be discharged from the hospital in a day and that I have to go to dinner with him since we've never gone before.

“Don’t worry, it won’t be a date, since I’ll invite a couple of my other friends,” he smirked. Then he added, “Remember to ditch the guy you came here with.”

“He’s just a friend, just like you are to me,” I snapped back. “Except you are my ‘bestest’ friend in the whole wide world.”

As I was leaving the hospital, a nurse asked me if the roses in Pete’s room were from me. She revealed that flowers were not allowed in that part of the ICU, but Pete had asked if they would make an exception for him.

On the night of our planned dinner, I came by to Pete’s place to pick him up. His house looked nice with a beautiful view of downtown Houston. The only thing that looked out of place was the vase of wilting roses I had given him a week prior.

“You need to throw those dying flowers out,” I said.

“I like them exactly where they are,” Pete replied breathlessly.

That was when I really noticed he was having such a hard time breathing. He said he told me to come half an hour earlier than his other friends so that we can spend some quality time together.

I saw a box full of old pictures on his floor, so I started to look through the photos. Pete tried to explain the story behind each picture, but he was so out of breath that I decided to do all the talking. One by one, I picked up each photo and told an elaborate tale behind each of them. Of course I was making them up as I went.

“Here’s you and your first love on a trip to Italy,” I would pretend to explain while holding up a photo.

“That’s my cousin and we were in Vegas,” he struggled to speak.

“Hush up!” I snapped at him. “I’m telling the stories here.”

“You’re so bossy,” he quipped. “That’s my sassy girl.”

Suddenly I came across a photo of my cousin’s wedding. He was a guest; a friend of the groom’s.

“I went to this wedding also,” I told him. “I was only 17 at the time. How strange you were there, too.”

“It’s fate,” he said. “We were living parallel lives and it can’t be mere coincidence that we met.”

“It may be fate for us to become friends, but I don’t think we’re destined for anything beyond that,” I joked. “You’re too much of a playboy. Besides, I always wanted an older brother.”

Pete didn't laugh at my joke. His other friends arrived just in time; a really cute couple I’d never met. We all took one car to a very upscale steakhouse. I was my usually upbeat self, but I noticed his friends acting very melancholy.

Pete seemed extremely tired so we took him home. Before I left, Pete said he wanted to take me shopping another day because he knew how much I would like that.

“You could use my credit card and buy anything you want with it,” he offered.

“Are you falling for me, Dr. Pete?” I laughed. “If you’re going to bribe me with shopping, it just may work. But I must warn you; I will break your heart because that’s what I’m good at."

"I know," he said.  "You've already broken some of my friends' hearts.  You're the girl who never wants to be pinned down or stay in one place."

"I will settle down one of these days, but currently my priority is my career and it has me moving from state to state. Right now you need to rest, Pete, so I better leave. Besides, I have to fly back to San Diego.”

Pete became quiet, and then he just looked at me and smiled slightly, but not with a happy kind of smile. I had no idea that that was going to be the last time I would ever see him again. When I finally flew back to California, I tried calling Pete, but no one would answer. I left multiple messages.

“Pete, where are you? Did something happen?"

“I’m really worried and I need to hear your voice.”

“Pete, call me. I have something to tell you... I think I'm falling for you.”

A few weeks passed and I called my mother to see if she had heard from Pete. She looked in the phonebook and found the number to the hospital where he worked at and called his staff.  They told her that he had died a couple of weeks ago, shortly after I left, and that his funeral had already passed. The news hit me like a big semi-truck.  It was as if someone had just gutted me open. I felt so empty and lost, yet I continued calling his phone hoping he’d pick up.

“Pete, I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I knew you were sick, but you told me you were getting better."

“Why didn't you tell me that you were dying of lung cancer? Why did you lie?"

“Pete, I need you more than ever.”

And just like that, Pete had left me. We never once even kissed or held hands. We were just very good friends. I never got to say goodbye or tell him how much he meant to me.  It wasn't until Pete died that I realized what a terrible friend I had been. I had been so selfish, only talking about myself and my problems that I never took the time to know more about him or his family. I didn't even have a picture of him.

Weeks later, another male friend said to me, “You know that movie, ‘My Sassy Girl’? You’re exactly like the girl in the movie.” It made me think of Pete.

I finally bought the DVD and watched it. It was funny and extremely sad and yes, I was very similar to the main character. She had a lot of emotional baggage, she seemed to enjoy torturing this one boy, but the best part of the movie was about fate and destiny.

Months after Pete’s funeral, I moved back to Houston and got a job at a local TV station.

One day, I spoke to Pete through my prayer:

“Jesus, if you see my friend Pete, please let him through your gates to heaven. Pete, I’m finally back home and closer to you now. You've always taken care of me and I know you will continue to do so. Just like you brought Joanne to me, please guide another friend to me so my heart won’t be so lonely.”

Within a week after my prayer the guy who would later become my husband found me via social media and sent me a message:

“Hi. I just saw you on TV. I don’t know if you remember me, but I think we went to the same church. Are you the same girl who …”

This was me when I was 21 years-old, the age I first met Pete.

 This was me when I became a reporter in San Diego.

This was me and a co-worker when I was reporting for a TV station in Houston.

 Movie Poster for My Sassy Girl

 "Wanna die?" is one of the main character's sayings when she's pissed off.

The 10 Rules to make her happy (from movie, My Sassy Girl): 1. Don't ask her to be feminine 2. Don't let her drink over three glasses 3. Drink coffee instead of Coke/Juice 4. If she hits you, act like it hurts. If it hurts, act like it doesn't 5. On your 100th day together, give her a rose during her class 6. Make sure you learn fencing and squash 7. Be prepared to go to prison sometimes 8. If she says she'll kill you, don't take it lightly 9. If her feet hurt, exchange shoes with her 10. She likes to write. Encourage her.