When you drift apart

“You know where it all starts?”

“Hm?”

“Chat.”

No, I refuse to believe that. We were friends. It just so happened that we started talking more often. That day when you shared your stories about her, that’s how we became close friends. You were problematic, vulnerable. And you were making a joke out of everything. You were joking about what was then an absurd circumstance. Things, however, started to fall into place, and then I saw how it wasn’t exactly impossible. And I fell for it.

We were good friends. We talk a lot. Back then, I was dating someone. You were into her. I never noticed how your name appeared more often in my phone than his. It never occurred to me that I was spending my time with you more often than I thought. It was your messages that greeted me when I woke up. The same name that bids me good night. For half a month, it went like that. We were friends. Just friends.

You, however, admit it or not, you started being the typical guy. You were flirting. I shrugged it off. I knew you weren’t prepared for anything serious. Like I said, you were taking everything as a joke. I was busy that time. Two org events, sorority, acads — endless academic work. I didn’t have time to comprehend you. Besides, I hate over-analyzing.

I honestly don’t remember how it started. All I knew was that you asked me out and I thought you were joking so I ignored your question. But the day before the set “date”, you asked me again. It was just going out anyway, it shouldn’t be a fuss. But I felt iffy about us. No, it wasn’t because I did like you — because I didn’t (or so I tell myself). It was because I felt really bad about leaving someone else hanging. No clear break up. Just leave it hanging.

So we went out. We spent our mutual free time together, watching movies or eating out or just hanging out, doing nothing in particular. A few times, you accompanied me home regardless of the fact that you live approximately 25 kilometers away from me.

You started to confuse me. Your words, actions, and all those subliminal messages never matched. But you told me not to assume. And so I didn’t. I trusted life to piece it all together for me.

But it didn’t.

Because once in a while, I can claim that something indeed is going on. But after sometime, you make me feel as if it’s all nothing. That we really are just friends. That all those things that happened between the two of us were nothing; they just happened because we allowed what was instantaneous to occur — no holding back.

From receiving your messages every now and then, it all died down. We can now survive without talking to each other for a day. Had you used me to move on, I wouldn’t be able to blame it on you. I allowed you to. But you left me stuck here. You became less concerned. No more good morning/ good night messages. You took it all away. And I can’t demand anything because really, what are we?

I’m losing you. I know, I know, I didn’t have you in the first place. But you were there. So fucking close. I almost had you.

Almost.

Can we go back to September’s first week?

Advertisements