Disclaimer: The fic is mine, but the characters aren't. They, along with the Anne of Green Gables series, belong to L.M. Montgomery and other related companies. If you steal, just know you'll regret it for the rest of your life - which isn't a very pleasant feeling, trust me.

Author's Note: This was a sudden plot bunny I got after rereading Anne of the Island recently. It's from Gilbert's POV, and rather strange and sappy . . so tread carefully, just in case.

Dedicated to: All my readers/reviewers and my best online friend, Jennifer. Thanks so much - you have no idea how much your support and criticism helps. :)

Most girls, I thought, wouldn't go for a boy like me. This was a universal truth that had been passed down in my family for generations – it wasn't a secret, it was something that everyone knew.

It was common knowledge that no matter how long or how much a girl liked a boy – or he liked her, or both – she would always long for someone better than him – a Prince Charming whom he couldn't be. And even if he could be that Prince Charming for her, he wouldn't make her happy. He couldn't satisfy her. He was just an ordinary man.

That seemed to be a family curse – especially after she unexpectedly, explosively entered my life. With her it had been the same thing.

Even if I was the handsomest, gentlest, kindest – every "est" I could think of that a girl liked a boy to be – fellow in the world, I wasn't enough. I wasn't good enough for her. I wasn't what she wanted. I was just an ordinary man – no one special and worth thinking of and wasting thoughts about. I would always be an ordinary man to her. That was all I was, and all I could be.

And this I knew, too, as well as she did. And even though I was her close friend, that alone couldn't make her like me for the way I was, or just plain like me. I was a friend to her, only that – and nothing more.

Of course I couldn't settle with that. There was no way, I thought, I could simply be friends with her and pretend that I didn't feel more than friendly, non platonic feelings toward her. I couldn't pretend that I didn't feel anything for her.

My feelings weren't meant to be ignored. And so I was selfish, asking for more than what I wanted and could have.

I still wanted to be her close friend; but being the selfish fool I was, I wanted to be more than friends, too. And what I asked from her, she couldn't give.

Even if it made me happy, she didn't want to have something special under false pretenses, and also jeopardize her friendship with me.

After that we had stopped talking for a while, and as time passed, I realized how completely insensitive and egotistic I was being. I regretted asking for something I couldn't have – and from what things looked like, could never have.

Asking for something, someone I couldn't have and paying the punishment for breaking the number one rule of friendship ('don't fall in love with your best friend'? Hah!) was what had cost me my happiness, and the light of my life that kept me going.

Going one step too far, passing the limit, had made me lose my best friend, my life – possibly forever.

More than anything I knew I had to be close to her or else I would be miserable and a dying fool. I couldn't let her out of my life.

I couldn't let go of her, so I decided to be happy with what I did have, and silently played the role that I was supposed to be – her schooldays friend, and nothing more. After all, what and who I wanted most, I couldn't have, so I was the next best thing I could be – a friend to her, and a dear confidante.

I didn't say anything more after that, and decided if she wanted to be with me, which I doubted, I would be more than fine with it – but I wouldn't pressure her into doing anything she didn't want to do, wasn't ready for or comfortable with (namely a relationship with me).

I didn't hate her for it – after all, who could hate Anne Shirley? It hadn't been her fault; it had been mine. And I realized it was better to be friends than pine away into nothingness for someone I would never have. Pessimistic thinking, but it was the truth.

Instead of being selfish and caring only about what I needed and wanted, I was thankful just to have her friendship and her be close with me. That alone made me the happiest man in the world. I really had much to be thankful for.

So when she had started dating Roy, a part of me felt ill, another part was happy for her – but everywhere in me, even those parts that felt happy and ill – I felt pain.

Pure pain – the pain of heartbreak, an emotion that doesn't heal easily, and only keeps hurting even more each time it is felt and acknowledged.

An empty ache was all I felt, nothing else. I felt dead, empty. With her constantly on my mind, I couldn't do anything – so I threw myself in my studies just to concentrate on something else and get her out of my head.

I had to stop thinking about her, or else I would go insane from the endless empty unfilled wishes of wanting and needing her to be with me. No matter how hard I wished, I wouldn't get her – and that I had to be content with.

It wasn't any use wishing an empty wish, so I worked until my eyes ached and strained from reading so many books in the dark or in little light, or for too long, and every piece of me burned and stung.

And it was then that I fell ill – thanks to my working too hard and pushing myself too much. My studies had been a sanctuary from her – during the few times when I didn't think about her – and now I had lost a battle, succumbing to need and heartbreak. And typhoid.

As hard as I tried, I knew then I couldn't rid myself of her – nor could I force myself to. She was the one closest to my heart, and I knew it was fruitless to forget someone I yearned for and loved.

We were two halves of one whole – I didn't want to lose her again, thanks to my stupidity and stubbornness. So I tormented myself by thinking about her; even if it was heavenly, it was the worst torture anyone could have, for it only reminded me more and more how I couldn't fight for the one girl I loved more than anything in the entire world.

I couldn't stand it – in the times where we met at social gatherings/outings or parties and talked, it didn't make me happy in the end – it only made me feel worse and the lowest of the low. And it made me need her even more each time we met or spoke.

Knowing that I was being a baby and not satisfied and grateful for what I did have, didn't help me any. When the last school year had ended at Redmond, I was happy, if not a bit nostalgic and depressed – all the good times, few as they were, I had had, were over – they were now only memories.

I went back to Avonlea, and almost met my death there. But just when things had gone for the worst – somewhere, somewhere, a light and God was smiling down on me, for I had gotten a letter from Anne's friend, Phil, that told me that Anne hadn't, in fact, married Roy, and told me to try again.

Imagine how fast my recovery had been then! I will never forget that letter, for it gave me a second chance. If it hadn't been for Phil, I know I wouldn't have Anne by my side now.

Not long after my surprising speedy recovery, I decided to ask Anne again, seizing my second chance at the best time I could as I knew I wouldn't be getting any more chances after that.

I didn't think she would say yes – after all, no one wanted an ordinary man, even if he was the "brainy of the brainiest" and "handsome of the handsomest." But still . . even if I was an ordinary man, there was a chance – slim as it was – that Anne wanted to be with me.

And she did say yes – something I will always be amazed at, yet grateful for. Out of all the men in the world she could have – the most romantic, the most Byronic hero-like he could be, the handsomest – she had wanted to be with me.

No one else, not even Roy Gardner. That fact was the loveliest in the world. Just simply knowing it made me feel lucky, gratified and joyful for it – and for her.

In the end, despite all her romantic dreams of girlhood, Anne realized that what she wanted most was to be with an ordinary man – that she needed to be with me.

Still I doubted. I didn't doubt her – I doubted myself. Was I good enough for her? Would I ever be good enough? Was I really who she wanted?

And the answer was, yes. I couldn't doubt or distrust her – I knew that whatever she said, I would believe.

Today she told me with laughing grey eyes that sparkled better than all the gemstones in the world, that she had wanted, not chose, to be with me, because I was "the best ordinary man in the wide, wide world."

And I believed that – not that I thought that I was the best, because no one was the best.

I believed it because I knew I was the happiest and luckiest ordinary man in the world.

Most girls, I had thought before, wouldn't go for a boy like me. But I had been wrong –and I could never express my gratitude that a wonderful, impulsive, daydreaming girl had been the one for me.

For Anne, I realized, being ordinary was more than enough for her.

And knowing that – just simply knowing that, was more than enough for me.