FRIENDZONE FATALITY

And because we are just humans, we tend to ignore what is right in front of us in the hope that something better will drop down from the unyielding skies and onto our laps. We close our eyes and grope around in the dark, looking for that ever-elusive light switch that is just beneath our fingertips. This is THAT story; that story that those who search so far for what is already so near have heard of and even worse, lived through. This is THAT story that those of us who overlook what is just beneath our nostrils can relate to…
Because he sits next to you in class, and watches as you stare at the guy who’s passing outside wink at you.
By mistake, as she is carrying your books back from the classroom because you asked her to, she finds you in that intimate moment as you pick a pellet of gum straight from the lips of that girl who she knows has never been good for you. She fakes a smile and you feign a shrug of embarrassment because you know that she has your back; she will never tell a soul…
It’s 2 a.m on a cold, rainy, Saturday night. Yes, club nights. You were teetering on the edge of slumber, and the annoying vibrations of your phone startle you into a state of semi-consciousness, the bright lights blinding you into a lulled stupor. You check the caller ID, and pick up because it’s her. She’s sobbing uncontrollably on the other end of the line, heck, she sounds like she’s shivering. And she stammers that “they” had an argument when they went out, and he left her, drunk, cold and in the rain somewhere in West-lands. She doesn’t even need to make the request. You were already out of bed before she finished talking, picked up two jackets and a scarf, and made a point to buy some coffee somewhere in Lavington, at goddamn 2a.m. Because you know that when she shivers, you get the flu, and when she cries, your cheeks burn…
“So what kind of girl would you like to ultimately end up with?” You ask, in the hope that he’s formed an image of you in his mind. He thinks for a while, and your heart sinks. He shouldn’t have to think. “Probably someone I met when I was a teenager” and your heart lights up again, because, like a small flame on a candle tip, hope dances in your heart “Pick me! Pick me!” Because in as much as he’s a flirt and he tells you every notorious conquest he gets up to with all these girls he uses and dumps, you cannot help but naively think he will be different with you. “But he will!” you reassure yourself, and you can’t help but fall deeper and harder into this bottomless abyss of absurd infatuation. You can change him. He knows you. He’s already let you in; so you won’t be starting from scratch. Because he already cares about you, it will be nothing shallow. No. He’ll be better with you; he’ll be human with you. He’ll find love with you. He won’t be a hurricane any more. It’s worth the try, or so you think.
And everyone sees you trapped in a “friend-zone” cage. She walks with you, she smiles at you, and you over-think, and read too much into things. What does she mean by that touch on my arm? Why am I trying so hard to pretend that I don’t care when another guy winks at her? Why do I instinctively growl whenever some random guy on the street bumped against her? Why do we text so late into the night and get offended when this girl does not reply? And the walls of ignorance start crumbling down; brick by brick, and you start throwing hints, like Frisbees. Sending your boys to ask her “Who she likes”, taking her out on dates where you planned to be just two of you, and get bummed out when she appears with her friends; lingering just a bit longer when she hugs you, and covering it up with a sarcastic comment to throw her off any suspicions; and then finally you cannot take it any longer. You realize… with stark horror intertwined with a foreboding excitement… that you’ve fallen into a spell that might destroy a beautiful friendship… but, you do not want to wake up.Imagef

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