Creative fun in
the palm of your hand.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1928734
by Kia
Rated: E · Letter/Memo · Experience · #1928734
Things I wanted to say to you.
I was short, fat, with braces, glasses and a face full of zits. I was a 1 and a half, as you once told him. Heh. I'm not mad, I suppose that's right. But I liked you. No, I loved you, as naïve as that may sound. I think it may have been as strong as love. I loved you since the first day. That day when I saw you wearing that ridiculous child tux, moping and pulling on your mother's skirt. I think he must have been standing somewhere next to you. He told me your mum brought him to the ceremony.

You grew before my eyes and you made my preteen years into a hazy daydream. But life is not a teenage movie. I did not take off my glasses and turn into a swan that September. I was ugly and I could only hope life to be a romantic comedy. You know the one. Best friends, after all that time realize that love they were looking for was here all along. You had a best friend, but that was ok. We could have been like the Harry Potter trio, couldn't we? I was Hermione, you were Ron and he was Harry. You remember Ron and Hermione fall in love?
You didn't like it. You laughed and called us nerds. I suppose you don't remember...

So I followed the two of you. I smiled and I pretended you weren't confused. I pretended I was one of you. I pretended you didn't mock me behind my back.

  When I couldn't pretend one morning I cried. I ran back and hid in the school. You followed me. Not in that dramatic romantic run that ends with a kiss. No, you reluctantly came after me later and told me I was being stupid. You told me it was a joke taken too seriously and you told me you don't hate me. I think you apologized in a way and I think that I, knowing what it was, agreed to continue the lie. And the lie was that we were friends.

I was just a girl.
No, I was an ugly girl. And the two are not as nearly as similar as I hoped they'd be. I was a tolerated intruder, too embarrassed to admit I was in the wrong place. I thought I annoyed him too. I suppose that may have been true. But he didn't say anything. He never said anything really. He was always silent, serious, keeping to himself, at least when more people were around. He barely acknowledged me. I knew he must have been shy. I knew he barely talked to anyone. And getting close to the two of you, I hoped, when he does choose to talk, he'll lie like you did that morning when I cried.

We met in town. I was alone returning a DVD. Really I just wanted an excuse to see the fair. It is so pretty and since no one asked, I stayed home every year. So that year I borrowed the DVD. You two were dressed up. He looked out of place. He hates crowds. You were fleetingly greeting almost everyone passing by, and so you greeted me. It shamed me to no end. They all saw how little you cared, even though every day, they saw me by your side. So I ran after you hoping they'd think you confused me for someone.

I asked you were you were going, and hiding the DVD in my purse, I asked if I can come along. I knew I was being unfair to you. I knew that even if you tended to say, or do thoughtless things, you are really a kind person. I knew you'd say yes.
We came to a crossroad. He wanted to leave the crowd, buy candy and watch the fireworks from the keep. You wanted to go to a club and 'meet up with some people', as you said it. So you both nodded pleasantly and went separate ways. You belong to different worlds and that's when I realized how your friendship stayed so intimate and strong. No matter where you go, you'll just meet up later. When it's natural. When it's fun.

And as you two began to walk away I stood still. At the time, I was pluripotent I suppose, like a stem cell. All I knew were books and my home. I knew I loved you as well I guess. But I also knew you didn't care. And that's why I froze. That's why for once, it was not about you. I wasn't aware of it at the time, but this was my first big crossroad in life, and on either side were so many different things, experiences and the person I was going to become. I was choosing between the two worlds and my innocent heart cracked a little, when you looked back, and I knew you saw me catching up to him.

He looked sideways slightly at me, with a smile. Or maybe a smirk? I still don't know why he smiled, but for the first time it felt like I was walking with, instead of after someone. That's the first night we actually talked. And you know what? He didn't lie.
He gave me candy, sat next to me and bluntly asked why I was there. I responded like I always do. I offered to leave. "That's not the point.", he said. "What do we have to talk about?". I responded reluctantly: "You never talk. Tell me what you're thinking, I guess.." He paused before he told me. I couldn't believe how much he told me. Behind the cold mask was an imagination of a child, wisdom of an old man, a sharp mind, tongue much more crude, honest and mean than yours, motivation of a sloth, lack of sense of humor and Harry Potter books. That was the first time I saw him laugh. At one point he reminded me I shouldn't eat so much candy. Embarrassed I dropped it back in the bag. He threw it over the wall and said he's eaten enough. He didn't want me to watch him eat by himself I suppose. At the time I just accused him of wastefulness.

I envied him on your friendship, yet I realized he was often alone. And as I followed him that night and as I became his friend over the years, I began to resent you for leaving him so often. He seems completely contempt with his loneliness, happy in it even. But he never asked for it. He just wanted to leave the crowd.

And somewhere in between that night on the keep in which I made a friend, turned away from you and put the candy down, and this night in which you sit next to me, touching me as you talk, leaning closer with your voice hoarse and pupils dilated, I've grown beautiful. A 6 maybe? Come on, I'm not that pretty. I slip out of your grasp pretending to have something to do, then sit next to him. Again, I see him smirk to himself. But this time I know why. Because somewhere in between those two nights he also looked at me, the way you're looking now. He held my hand when I was sick, he allowed me to walk in the dangerous silence of the night as my protector, he made the heated discussions over Light's moral grounds completely normal, got talked into practicing spell casting with me, he called me on my bullshit, though with slight sadistic pleasure, grew into a relatively social creature and he even told me I'm not ugly. And somewhere in between those two nights your smiling face faded in the background. And the old lie was replaced by a new one. He and I are friends.

Wanna hear the kicker? 

My heart still sped up, the first time I saw you tonight. More? I am disgusted at your attempts to call me your friend. You are committing my sin and I recognize it. Do you see how he is looking away when you touch me? How his jaw tightens? I do. Don't pretend. You do too. You know him better than I do. You are his friend. I am just a lie. A girl. Ugly or not, never one of you.

And this is why I ask you to stop. We've grown up and we have to leave. He is fighting with all his might to stop it, but slowly, bit by bit, I will disappear out of his life and he will never say things you would so easily. I can't accuse you of being a bad friend. When he needs you, you are there. And I won't be one day. Because maybe that day, there will be another man at my side, and I love him enough to swear to myself, that that man will never be you.
© Copyright 2013 Kia (kia83 at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates have been granted non-exclusive rights to display this work.
Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1928734