It hits you like a glue bomb, when you realize you have feelings for your best friend, a sticky mess, that all over you; it’s in your hair, between your fingers, it’s glued your heart to your throat and you walk around with the nauseating pulse beating loudly in your ears, you cannot swallow, you want to speak, but the words are stuck in it’s gooey hot mess. The thoughts fluttering in your mind, the restless nights wondering how to get your words out, or even if you should speak at all. You go about your day, wearing a mask to hide the burning ache you feel inside, the truth struggling to break out of your chest, its fiery need to transition from thought to reality takes all your heart’s strength to hold in place. Fear of rejection and anxiety of reaction intertwine like vines, dancing its way up your spine.
And after finding the courage to finally tell him that you care, after months of deliberating whether it was the right thing to do, wondering what it would do to your relationship – friendship. And he says “I don’t feel the same way”… And though you knew in your heart of hearts that this was going to be his answer, there is no more room for wishful thinking. You stand there facing nothing but the truth, that there will be no room for anything more than what exists now. So you face this reality, though now feeling raw, exposed, vulnerable; you are more susceptible and sensitive to old wounds and lost-loves.
You sit and wonder, though ‘why?’ or rather, ‘why not?’
Your feelings for him were not those of passion and desire, they were deeper rooted, not a mere passing crush, it was a wholesome care that engulfed his being like a bubble, it was a friendship, it was a love, it was a seed grown through a year of small understandings, and misunderstandings. A flash into the future you imagine a person who loves doing the same things you do, a person you can sit comfortably in silence with, a person who you does not make you feel judged for even your most embarrassing, and weak moments, a person who makes you feel unafraid of revealing even the dirtier and darker sides of yourself, a person in whose company you feel at ease, a sense of relief, to not need to be your best self, to not worry about your insecurities, or be honest and open about them with. You could imagine him as your person, because you were all of this together… You wonder, with all this between you, whether he would change his mind, someday.
How would you feel if you could replay out every other possibility that your life could have taken, all the missed opportunities, the moments, the mishaps, the kiss that could have been instead of the tears that were shed. Would your ideal reality exist in those hundreds of probable outcomes? Would you have become lovers rather than friends, if you had not gotten so drunk that one time, or phrased your words a little differently, if you had not taken that trip, if you had let your guard down from the beginning, if you weren’t in love with other people in between, would that initial kiss have led you down a different path, one that would have ended in cuddled comfort on the couch watching the netflix series on the possibilities of your life’s choices, rather than with two separate aching hearts though together yet far apart.