|
so i took a
deep breath and said
"i remember all those nights
i sat staring at your face
wondering if maybe somehow someway
i could kiss your sweet lips and
you'd never know.
i prayed you'd never wake up because if you
did you'd probably pull away
disgustedly or look at me with wide
unbelieving eyes and i didn't want
my heart to be broken
especially not by you."
but you weren't really shocked
even though i kind-of just
blurted it out, not knowing
how else to tell my best friend
that i was in love with her.
"wait, calm down," you said.
"can't you see? i too
feel that way.
i used to watch you as you
put up your hair and i would
curse myself for even thinking about
doing anything to you.
you're so fragile and i didn't want
to break you in any way
especially not your heart."
we talked for a while
and decided some things
i said "so what are
we now? the word 'couple'
doesn't seem to apply. are we
still just friends? but now
we're more than that."
neither of us knew.
"i want to kiss you so
bad," you'd say as we laid
in bed and fidgeted. "but it's
so hard
i'm so inexperienced.
what if i do something
wrong or i mess up
or our lips don't match? that
sometimes happens, you know."
"i doubt it," i replied.
"but don't expect me to
be any more brave than
you. it's so much easier in
the movies when the director
yells 'action' and you
simply read from the script.
even with your lips so close...
it's next to impossible. i can't
bring myself to do it."
but it was a lie because
i finally leaned in.
it wasn't compulsive by any means
i'd been planning it
right down
to the second it happened.
afterwards
neither of us said much of anything.
but i knew then and there.
"it started as an experiment, but
now i know better than that," i
confessed. "i know
that i want your arms
around me each night
and i want you to cook me
breakfast in the morning.
i prefer pancakes."
so we laid out the ground rules.
we picked a song.
and we started to
plan for the future.
drew pictures of our house
and chose names for
our kids.
of course it didn't
all happen that fast.
it wasn't always
"i love you baby,"
at the end of the conversation.
but let's jump to that part.
...three months later.
"wow, i can't believe this,"
i said, in heaven, next to you.
"i never thought i'd be in love
the way i am now.
i never thought you'd understand
when i poured my heart out
in front of your eyes.
never thought you'd take my
hand and make it all better."
you agreed.
"love used to be so insignificant.
i never thought it could apply
to me. i didn't think it'd ever
hit close to home. but now
when i hear your voice
i think of nothing but
fountains, parties, and
the eternity we will one day share.
it's amazing and beautiful and
all other good adjectives."
your words made my soul
soar with happiness. and
things were perfect for a while,
(snacks on the couch and gentle hugs)
too perfect. i guess i
should've seen it coming.
when you called one day, cold
in october. and said,
"i can't see you anymore.
i'm sorry.
i can't talk to you anymore.
there's nothing i can do.
i can't. i can't. they found out. and
i can't."
it wasn't a surprise.
we both knew, one day
our heaven would come crashing down.
"don't cry, my love,"
i whispered to the receiver.
you were at a gas station,
and you had to get home.
"how will i survive?" you
asked. "i already want
to die."
"don't think like that,
don't say those things."
i tried to hold in my
threatening sobs.
we said our goodbyes.
no words for weeks.
sure, we had a system.
you write, i'll write. back
and forth. like a swingset.
"it's better than nothing.
be glad you have my words,"
i told you when you got depressed
about having to wait for my arms.
but nothing could take
the pain away.
"i wake up each morning
and want to go back to sleep.
drift into dreamland where things
are the way they should be."
i struggled to explain.
"when the radio plays
all i want to do is cry
are you still out there?
are you still alive?
i hope i haven't hurt you
especially not your heart."
i cried everyday.
i cry everyday.
things haven't changed since
then. though i wish they
would. sadly
this story goes unfinished.
this novel is in pieces still.
for i am continually waiting
to be sewn back together.
i may be battered and
bruised, so far,
but you have kept
your promise.
and what i would tell you, if
i could speak to you now,
would be this:
"you have not broken my heart.
and i have not broken yours.
may we one day be the beautiful
being we always set out to be.
still fresh and pure with hearts
worn and slightly tired, but
never dented nor scratched.
immune to pain."
|