Along this journey of friendship we shared, me and her, I can recall a few times when people would ask if we were a couple.
These moments would preferably take place on those nights when I couldn’t pretend to not feel what I felt, as well as the sober me usually did, even though I was never afraid of looking at her how I wanted to. I was natural, maybe reticent, but it was not that hard to notice my proud look towards her, this stunning tallish blonde I so easily distinguished from the crowds. Anyways, I would always keep an eye on things, especially on this 5’9” golden-haired thing with eyes that could easily ridicule the ocean for its lack of depth and tones, and a smile, sometimes not so easy, but she would somehow always find one to present me with, for she obviously knew how I felt and respected me as much as her relentless spirit would allow her to; such a clearly noticeable gaze I shone upon her. After all, I only cared for the well-being of this said thing, and nothing more than that.
When people asked – “Are you two together?” – or as one, drunken, who was trying to get it on her and saw me as a competitor once said – “You want to bang her, don’t you?”
Hearing this, with her beside me, I don’t remember what I replied, probably nothing, but if I had tried to, it would have been something like this – “Oh, I want so much from her that I don’t even know if I want to do her. Maybe, but it would be one of the last things I’d bother to think of.” Definitely too romantic for a 4 am vodka stained chat. I merely grinned for I looked at this stupid question so emptily, and I felt so unique for noticing how such thoughts can seem so basically insignificant everytime I looked at her, only to remind myself of what love really means.
Every now and then, when this question arisened, I was led to believe I was doing it right, and I probably was. How can people see something that isn’t happening? Should I obviously be her boyfriend? How can I so clearly deserve her love? Everyone sees it, except for her.
And now, looking back, those were the nights that silently told me that we were probably never meant to be, but still, how can everyone be so wrongly right, and she so certainly sure that we would forever be the ones who seem everything without being actually anything at all?