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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2139052-Best-Friends
Rated: E · Non-fiction · Emotional · #2139052
The thin line between friends and lovers.
That night, something was different. It was as if melancholy and magic had joined hands and offered us moments full of mystique. His eyes, which had once held galaxies in them, which brimmed with words were now as empty as that abandoned blank sheet of paper, craving those few blotches of ink, waiting to be understood, to be remembered.
His pain had made us come together tonight and unlike the other nights we talked or met, tonight was strange. He was drunk, drunk in alcohol and lost in thoughts. I did not know why he lay on the table and cried, but for some reason, I did not stop him. It felt weird as the alcohol which I hated so much had suddenly become my well-wisher. I had never been so close to him, no, not like this. That feeling I had nurtured within myself for years was peeping in, wanting to be recognized.
I felt a quick shiver as he asked me to take him home. In the car, through the loud music, all I could hear was my heart beating fast. As I reached, I turned off the engine. He was barely able to walk, and while I carried him upto my room, all I could feel was the warmth of his skin on mine, his soft breath and my name on his lips.
I took him to my room and settled him on my bed, removed his shoes and sat beside him. I smiled. Probably this was some parallel universe where he felt so real, so mine! Or was it that the Universe was making a mischievous move to make me happy? I did not know.
I grazed my hand through his face, got closer and brushed my lips against his. It did not feel wrong, nor did I feel electricity and I definitely did not hear violins. I did blush, but most of all, I felt serenity and peace.
I lay quietly beside him, staring at him. No words, but the silence was mesmerizing. His messy hair covered up most of his forehead and his light stubble grew here and there and the curve his smile bore was way too big! His hands were too fluffy and his bitten nails looked ugly, yet his imperfections seemed perfect for me. For once I could stare at him all the time, without any questions, without any guilt, without any expectations.
I was in love with a man I knew can and will never love me back, but I pushed aside these thoughts. Tonight was meant to be beautiful, tonight was meant to be memorable, tonight was meant to be what I would cling on to the rest of my life.
And I was happy. I wanted time to stop itself, but I wouldn't complain. Tonight I felt alive, for tonight I was not a best friend, I was a lover!

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2139052-Best-Friends