The truth is he’ll never see me as more than a friend; I’ve known that all along and accepted the fact right away. But, still, the fool in me grasps at what little hope there is.
I recognized the red flags all along, but I still plunged head on. I knew I’d get hurt, but I still allowed myself to feel.
I knew better than to mistake his kindness and friendship as being more than they actually are.
I cling to the fact that we think alike, have similar views in life and can finish each other’s sentences. How at times, we’d just look at each other and instantly know what the other is thinking.
How we’d throw banter at each other, until one of us gives up.
How I consider him the first guy friend I’ve ever been close to.
How we’d hang out, just the two of us. How he’d text me once we parted, telling me to take care on the way home.
How he’d like to speak his mind and confide his feelings; how we’d pick up each other’s mood, how he’d ask me if I’m okay if I suddenly shut myself up in my own protective shell and how I would do the same for him.
How he’d deliberately catch my attention when I ignore him on purpose.
How he would give hints that there’s nothing going on between us and how I’d pick those hints immediately. I may be stupid, but I’m definitely not naïve. And I’m actually thankful for that.
That he never led me on. Yes, we may flirt nonstop, but that just about it — a flirtationship — nothing more, nothing less.
I’m thankful for how he’d talk about his sexcapades, picking up girls at bars during the weekends, his troubled relationship with his girlfriend to whom he doesn’t commit, silently congratulating myself for not being one of them.
I take comfort in the fact that I won’t just be another notch on his belt, that I won’t be a victim of his malingering ways.
How he’d show me pictures of his model-pretty ex-girlfriends, without being left thinking that he’s subtly hinting that I won’t be ever as half as beautiful as them.
I’m grateful for the fact that we may hang out and pass out the night drinking, but we can still look each other in the eye the morning after both acknowledging the fact that we didn’t thread the dangerous waters, the thin line between real friendship and friendship with benefits.
That I can show my true self to him, and his real one to me, no reservations whatsoever, that we can be ourselves with each other’s company.
I’m grateful for the fact that somehow, he considers me as one of his closest friends.
After all, that’s what I wanted for myself as well. To know that whatever happened, there won’t be any burned bridges between the two of us. That wherever life takes us both, I know I have a friend in him.