[ smiling alone ]
Thursday, August 26, 2010 by Erin Collins
You know, someday, someone is going to read this and want to get to know me. We're going to talk and become best friends. I'll probably already be half in love with him by then, but, just like every other friendship, I'll only be the friend.
We'll watch movies, we'll laugh, I'll cry and he'll hold me. He'll answer the phone when I call. He'll want to be around me and initiate hanging out. Maybe he'll make me a CD, or play his guitar for me because we're friends and he knows that I like it. I'll probably crash at his house, because that's where I feel safe and fucking wanted for once. After a long night, he's feeling like shit, he'll come to me pissed off to just vent. I'll make him laugh and then we'll go get something to eat at 2am and feel better just to be in each others company. Afterwards, I'm thinking we'll kick each other's asses in video games, then maybe wrestle and beat each other up. Our laughter would wake someone up, and we'd just end up laughing more. Then we'd talk the rest of the night, until the sun started coming up and we bitched and moaned about how we needed to be up early. We'd finally fall asleep, and you wouldn't care if I ended up holding onto you while I slept, because we'd just be friends and we're both lonely.
Just friends of course. I'd never tell him that I loved him.
And then one day, he would realize that this best friend is someone he could spend the rest of his life with. With all of her flaws - her huge, short body would be something he found beautiful, the way she gets angry and jealous would be something cute to him. He'd love the smile on her face. He'd love making her laugh, being the one to put that smile on her face. And every time she'd cry, he'd realize that it hurt him, and he'd want to take all of that pain away. Yes, he would realize all of this, but he would keep it to himself for fear of ruining a wonderful friendship.
Yet, eventually, the girl would break down. There would be a night that she would curl into herself in fear, anger at herself - she'd despise every part of her being because no one would ever feel the passion and love she felt for life and for people. As a final, pathetic hope, she would reach out to her best friend (because again, that was where she felt safe and wanted). For the thousandth time, she would fall into his arms in tears, hopeless (because he was her last hope) and broken. This time though, after wiping away her tears, his hands wouldn't move from her face. He'd stare at her, afraid of what he was about to do, but regardless, he'd do it. She'd cry again though because, for once, the love and passion she poured into someone would finally be returned. Someone finally saw the beauty she saw in herself.
Yes...one day someone will read this.
