what do you think of this?
i wrote it when i was bored
PURELY FICTIONAL
Goodbye, best friend
I love you.
I love you in a million different ways. I love the way you look down at me and smile, and how your eyes get crinkly around the edges. I love your smile. I love your hair, even after you’ve cut it yourself, so that you look like someone attacked you with shears.
But mostly, I love you for you.
I know you, you see, from the way you think to the way you act. I can tell when you’re breaking inside, even when you try to act like you’re fine. I recognize the way your forehead creases when you don’t understand something, and how your eyes light up after you suddenly understand.
I love you because you’re so smart, and yet too obtuse to understand what all my phone calls mean, and all the times I’ve lend you a shoulder to cry on. All the times I’ve told you not to worry, because I was there, and I’d always be there.
You didn’t believe me at the time, but I’ve stayed with you. Sometimes I see you looking at me with half appraised eyes, wondering, out of all your “best friends” and girlfriends through the ages, how I’d been the one to stay. And just before I get nervous, wondering if you’ll finally realize that I love you, you heave a sigh, and silently thank god for this twist of fate.
But it wasn’t fate. It was me.
You’ll never know of all that I’ve been through for your sake. You don’t let me make sacrifices, so I don’t let you realize the battles I’ve fought, and the chances I’ve given up. People might call this futile, and say that I’ve wasted my life, but it’s not true. Because somewhere along the line, you’ve started to love me too. You’ve held me in your arms when I’ve cried, and you tell me all your thoughts and desires. I’m like a part of you, and I know that you’d be lost without me.
Oh no, not as a lover…never as a lover. The thought has never even crossed your mind. Your face is easier to read that anything else in the world, and trust me, if you’ve entertained the thought, even for a second, I’d have known.
You think that I’m too fussy and that I’ve got commitment issues. That I’ve got the image of the perfect guy in my head and that if I only relaxed, and accepted life as it came, I’d be happy. But tell me, how can I possibly fall for someone else when I see you every day?
I don’t know whether life would’ve been better for me, if we’d never met, or if I would have been able to move on, had I the strength to leave. Sometimes I wish that I had, in fact, left, so that today perhaps I’d be living a life of my own, unfettered by a useless unreturned passion that refuses to die out. But it’s too late to try to start now, so I guess I’m destined to spend my life by your side, never more than a best friend.
It’s been so long, but I still get nervous when you’re around, my fingers still tremble at your accidental touch, and though I know you inside out, I’d still love for nothing more than to be yours. It’s not the useless infatuation of youth, fueled by nothing more than excitement, and no, I don’t get weak-kneed every-time we talk. It’s more of a mental attraction, a soul attraction, a relationship that will withstand time and space. It sounds cheesy, like those teen-flicks that were so popular back in high-school, but it’s true. I’d know.
I love you so much, that I’ve never let you know how I really feel about you. I’ve buried this secret deep within me, so that you’ll never guess. Its gut piercing, this ache that refuses to go away. It’s become a part of me, and with the passage of time, it’s gotten better, until I hardly realize its there. Sometimes, yes, the hopelessness of it all rises, and there are plenty of nights when I fall asleep exhausted, after crying my eyes out, but mostly, I’m fine, and it’s honestly worth it.
I love you so much, that seven years ago, I watched you walk down the aisle with her. Even now, I can recall with vivid clarity, how you smiled at her, and put on her finger the ring that I helped you choose. You were radiant; the happiest I’ve ever seen you, in all the years I’ve known you. I ignored the pain, and smiled for you, tears of joy streaming down my face as you stooped to kiss your bride. The pain came later that night, all the stronger for being suppressed. It felt like drowning, like I was unable to breathe, for crying, but that night did end, and I resurfaced.
I always knew that you’d be someone else’s, but that didn’t make it any easier. I thought that seeing you get married to someone else would be the worst pain ever, and that if survived that, which I did, I would be able accept anything else life threw at me.
But I was wrong.
But now it’s infinitely worse. You’re lying in bed, living out your last days, perhaps even your last hours on earth. We’ve tried everything, visited all the doctors under the sun, and yet found no cure. You’ve even stopped struggling, and you’re silent and calm, breathing with the help of a respirator.
I’d do anything to save you, but I can’t, and it’s all I can do to watch you fade away. I know that you’re worried about me, more worried, in fact than you are about your wife; though she loves you, we both know that she’ll be able to get on with her life. Maybe not this year, or even the next, but she will. It’s different with me, and you know it. You’ve left her all your fortune, but you’ve left me things that are infinitely more precious: your old baseball cards, and your sketches, done after you were confined to bed. But most importantly you’ve left me millions of memories, undimmed by time, and as concrete as if they were set in stone.
And now, I’m in the room with you, holding your hand. You’re struggling to say something, but I’m looking into your eyes, and I understand anyways. There are volumes of things left to say, but we’ve got no more time, so I just lean over you, and kiss your cheek for the last time.
“Goodbye, best friend. I love you”.
