Falling too fast

I’m falling in love with a friend.

I remember the first time I saw her. I was wowed right over. She was wearing an orange dress. She had her hair up. I remember following her chinky eyes when she smiled. I wondered who she could be as we shared the table for the night. I remembered her name. I wanted to get to know her more. I hoped that she was unattached.

Yes, I’m pursuing someone who’s in a relationship. But it’s not as bad as it seems.

I hope that it’s not just me, but we click together really well. We react the same way. We share common interests. We think alike. We work well together. We fit comfortably.

Because I’m so shrouded in mystery, I don’t think she knows about how I feel. I’m not so sure if she feels anything ‘cause her friends don’t ask me about anything either. So, she’s not telling her friends about us, about how we’ve been going out, about our constant messages, about our phone conversations. Then I realize again, that maybe she does just see me as a fun older bother who she wants to hang out with. That hurts twice as much. As if her still being in love with her boyfriend isn’t bad enough, I end up as the dork trying to force his way in her life who has no chance of being more than just a friend.

Now I feel like a fool. Everyone’s counting down the days till Christmas while I sit here and mope. I’m thinking about her and how her test went. I’m wondering how she’ll manage her commute home. I’m wondering how Christmas this year will be like. The past few Christmases have been bare. The past few Christmases have seemed a tad incomplete. I wonder what this year’s going to be like.

I can just imagine that guy butting in on Christmas day out of nowhere, like he did on her birthday. She’ll fall for him in an instant, bringing back all the memories they’ve shared through the years that they’ve been together. They have years while we barely have one. They’ve been together forever, and we’ve seen each other less than ten times so far. Look at what I have to compete with. A hundred little acts of thoughtfulness, kindness, and love from me can be wiped out by a few sweet words that mean nothing from him. Look at the mountain I have to overcome.

And yes, I have a grand time with her. I enjoy being with her. I love her company. We talk about anything and everything and we’ve already grown comfortable with each other. If we have silences, they’d be comfortable, and we don’t even have silences anymore.

And yet, I remember one of the first things she ever told me when we started chatting. She told me how odd it was to find someone she was absolutely comfortable with, finding someone who seemed like she knew all her life.

Christmas time last year, she would ring my phone because I wasn’t online. She’d look for me when I wasn’t around. But she comes with the tides. She comes and she goes. She’d be around me like a tropical storm, and then fade away, leaving me with wreckage.

I feel like a fool. I don’t want to fall for her, but I’m starting to.

Love can be a sick and painful game sometimes. I’m falling for someone who’s in love with someone who doesn’t seem to love her anymore. It hurts me to see that she’s hurting. I want her to be happy. If her happiness means that they get back together, I’ll take the hit and carry on. It hurts, but there’s nothing I can do about it anymore.

It hurts to hear that she still loves him. It stings to the bone. I shatter like glass and tread on the shards that don’t seem to want to end.

This has been going on for quite a while. I’ve just been trying to keep my feelings at bay. But something happened and I couldn’t help it anymore. You can blame it on my frailty, but it’s here and it’s happened and I’m caught. I’ve dug a hole that’s too deep to climb out of. I’ve gone too far from the shore. I’m drowning in this tragedy.

I’ve started to confide in people about this. I’m even confiding to her friends. This is the start of the end. This is the start of the downfall, the eventual collapse of my pride.

Well, I hope that I'm not just shit in her life. I hope that she comes to her senses. I hope that she takes the steps to become happier. I hope we can get to spend more time together and eventually, I want to help make those tears into smiles and help her make new memories.

I remember one of the first things she told me was whether I thought it was possible for two people of the opposite sex to have a really good platonic relationship. That’s after she asked me if I’d ever met someone whom I thought I knew for a very long time, someone who I just click with it, someone who I’m just comfortable with from the get go.

You know the more I think about this, the harder it seems to think of a happy ending. The more I think about all the signs, the more I think that I’m just being played. I’m a pawn. The player has been played.

It’s hard. I want to ask her how much she still loves him. I want her to tear my heart into pieces.

You’re waiting for him, I’m waiting for you, and no one’s waiting for me. I’m dying here willing for your name to show up. I’m dying for you to care enough to say hi or tell me how you’re doing. I’m dying for you to miss me and to love me. And all of these things are exactly how you’re feeling for him.

Irony: You ask me who’s breaking my heart. You tell me that it doesn’t deserve to be broken.

Is this karma? Is this feigned affection getting back at me?