To begin falling for someone is like stepping in quicksand. Slowly but steadily, you sink deeper and deeper. You struggle to get out of it, but the more you struggle, the faster you sink. Eventually, you find yourself completely submerged, unable to see, unable to breathe.
I’ve known her for years now. I know her favorite song and color and TV shows. I know her stands on political matters and I know the career path she wants to pursue and I know the story of how she got the scar on her left knee. I think I know her better than she knows herself. She has good days and she has bad days. On her good days we would laugh about it and fondly make fun of each other while going on walks around the neighborhood. On the bad ones we’d go on the same walks, except those I spent trying to comfort her, to make sure she made it out okay.
My shoulders were always there for her to cry on, my arms always there to wrap her in a warm embrace. There were times the roles were reversed, and she never failed to make everything better.
Now, everything about her just feels familiar. The way her bright, brown eyes get smaller as her white smile gets bigger. The way she tears up slightly when she yawns as she does her homework. The way she says “I hate you” to me after I crack a joke or the way she runs her smooth fingers through her dark, wavy locks. Along with these come a million more little things and idiosyncrasies just not meant to be written. When I’m with her, I see no logic in ever wanting to go home, because in her presence I know I already am.
She’s my best friend, what else can I say? Actually, now that I think of it, a lot is left to be said… Something feels off. It’s as if the feelings of friendship I used to feel for her have been, um, replaced. Now, when she tells me I’m the best or that I’m “a cute little thing”, I feel a chill emanate throughout my body that I didn’t use to feel along with goose bumps that never showed up before. These days when we hug, I’m finding myself lingering in her arms longer than I used to, pulling her in tighter than ever before.
I think I’m falling for her. Back then we always vented to each other about our guy and girl problems or anything that involved romance. These days no degree of pain compares to what I feel when she talks to me about other guys and says whom she finds attractive. It really kills me. I wish I could help it but who really controls what he feels, right?
Falling for someone is quicksand and I’m knee-deep in the stuff now.
This isn’t right. We talked about this a year or so ago. We would stay friends no matter what. I promised her I would be her best friend till time is done, nothing more than a best friend. I promised. I did. I know there are promises meant to be broken, but not this one. She and her friendship mean way too much to me, and to do anything that compromises this is to cut myself a thousand times over. But my honor is falling flat, as the more I fight it, the more my unspoken passion for her grows. God forgive me for breaking my promise.
I’ve broken my vow, but maybe it isn’t too late to unbreak it? As much as it hurts me now, maybe I can I let this go. Maybe I can help her realize how the perfect guy for her is out there, knowing that it will probably rip me to shreds if she finds him. Maybe I can bring back the old days and what I felt then. By doing this, the promise is repaired, right?
Or maybe I can’t do this. Maybe I shouldn’t do this. I don’t know. Maybe I don’t want to help her find the right guy, because that guy is me, and she found me long, long ago. Maybe we were always meant for each other. Then again, maybe I’m out of my mind, and having broken my promise was the worst mistake I ever could have made in my lifetime. Or maybe the next time we go for a walk around the neighborhood, our fingers will be interlocked. Maybe. I don’t know.
Here I stand now, waist-deep in the quicksand, uncertain whether to latch onto something and pull myself out or to dive downwards headfirst.