Note: Another attempt at fiction after quite some time. Tried to keep it short.
I think relationships can be defined by big moments that don't happen. ...Or by the little ones that do.
I don’t know where I went wrong. I don’t know if it one big thing, or one tiny thing, or several tiny things. I don’t know if the whole thing was wrong in the first place, but I did not see it coming.
I remember the first time I saw you. He and I were going to watch a movie, and you rudely cut into line before us. Then you lit a cigarette and gloriously ignored my coughing.
You turned around with the tickets in hand, and smiled, no laughed at Her, ran up to Her and almost snatching the slushie from Her hand, gulped down the last of it.
A common friend introduced us a few days later. I didn’t realize then it was you. You still don’t know. You gave a customary nod and smile towards me at my introduction, not really taking in any information about me. At the end of the party, I was waiting for Him to pick me up, saying my goodbyes to my friends. You - the party animal - was amongst the last to leave. Again, a cursory nod, and you were off, without a good bye or ‘hope to see you again’
Fate played a cruel game. He and you became friends. Back then, I saw it as being forced into your company. I took it as you trying to steal Him away from me. What with all our ‘dates’ moving from just the two of Us, to including you, and maybe more guys, hanging out at sports bars. I was jealous for the first time, and because of a guy. Not a good feeling.
I’d come home from a week long business trip. I’d been dying to see Him after being away for so long, but to my disappointment, when I got off the plane, He called to say, He was stuck at work with a deadline. Instead, He’d asked you to pick me up. Maybe it was the long flight, but mostly it was you that made me reply, ‘If you can’t come, I’ll make it home myself, I don’t need a stupid driver’. Of course, when I turned around, you were standing right there, after eavesdropping on my not-so-soft-spoken conversation and fake-grinned ‘your chauffeur is here ma’am’.
His birthday was around the corner. I couldn’t think of a good enough gift to get Him. And I wanted it to be special. ‘What do you get a guy who has me?’ I asked. You named a book, which has gone on to become amongst his most favorite books. I hadn’t realized you read. Heck, I hadn’t realized we talked enough, for you to be suggesting gift ideas, and me to be accepting them. It was when He gave me the biggest grin ever when He ripped open the present, that I realized I couldn’t have gotten Him anything better. I turned around to smile thanks at you, but you were too busy stuffing your face with cake.
It’d crept up on me, I’m sure. How else could I not have realized we were becoming friends? The frequency of calls increased, the subjects, moving from just one question to long discussions. When did I start talking to you? When did I start laughing with you? When did you become among the first people to know anything that happened with me? He didn’t mind our friendship. In fact He was glad for it. I’m not of the stone-age mindset, but I wish for once He’d have a tiny problem with it. He didn’t.
Our jobs often took us to different cities. We spent precious little time together. I would miss Him terribly when He wasn’t here with me. Another place, I wouldn’t mind. But here, home didn’t seem home without Him. Phone calls, no matter how long, or detailed, could only comfort so much. You became the one I turned to. I’d often tag along with you and Her. Funny, I never wondered if She felt the same as you did initially, while hanging out with us. She didn’t seem to mind, and She and I got to be friends too. But seeing you with Her, got harder with time. Maybe I misunderstood.
The two of you together, always reminded me of the two of us. If not in how you were, then in how you were not. Mostly the latter. I always thought ours was a grown up mature relationship, and yours most obviously wasn’t. The silly arguments, and the mushy making up, the giggling and the touching, the wanting to know about every second of the other’s life- I thought we were way over that. Again I misunderstood. I openly made jokes about how childish you two were, but I was just being jealous. I was missing Him way too much. But I thought I was too mature to simply call Him ten times a day just to hear his voice.
You sensed something was amiss. You tried your best to cheer me up. It worked, but only when I was with you. When you weren’t around, my mind was even more confused now. Missing Him and you. I should’ve seen it coming at least then but I didn’t. i was just missing Him, and you distracted me. I knew this. Then why?
How did we end up there? How could I have misunderstood so much? How did I end up being so confused. I never stopped loving Him, I never thought any one else could ever take his place. Yet there we were. Watching a movie, one afternoon. Some stupid zombie type movie, none the less. I laughed appropriately at all the bits that were “scary”. I don’t know how it happened. Suddenly I was very aware of the fact that I wasn’t looking at the screen, but watching your expressions change. I smiled when you gaily laughed. I smirked at your disgusted expression during the zombie-eating-human bits.
But what got me back, was when you turned to look at me. First you were still laughing at some scene, then your expression changed to a smirk, wondering what I was thinking, and finally as realization dawned, your face dropped, and your eyes closed in disappointment.
‘This isn’t’
‘I know’
‘He’s my friend’
‘I know’
‘He truly loves you’
‘I love Him too’
‘I love Her’
‘I know’
‘I’m sorry…’
‘No, it’s my fault’
‘I can’t…’
‘I don’t know what I was thinking’
‘This isn’t’
‘I… know’
Note: The story is fictional, the idea is not. Maybe I can come up with His and Her part of the story. Kind of feel sorry for them.
