There is someone on my mind...who I find is never quite far from it. Makes me a bit foolish, as keeping each other at arm's length for what has become a strong year, had become the only way we can be friends...
Face-to-face. It's stronger than lightning. Stronger than lust. Stronger than anything I've ever felt.
I pushed that feeling deep down inside out of respect for both our situations...though mine was never defined and his is for private reasons that don't belong on this blog...
But there was one time... I was vulnerable, hurting, and more than willing. He could have taken advantage.
He's one of the few men I know who hasn't, not ever.
I know how we feel about each other. On that night, over a year ago, we grew some balls and said that shit out loud. Easier to do when you know something cannot come from the truth. But it was out there, in the universe...
The day we met - there was energy between us, bouncing between us. I was mostly oblivious, as I tend towards the extremely monogamous. He told me later he couldn't stop looking at me, my smile, my neck, the curve of my back, the way I tripped a little in my shoes. The second time - I looked back, felt the answering gaze burst through me. We stared. He rightly told me I was Trouble with a capital T. I returned "Likewise, sir." I moved as far away as possible from all that man sitting next to me. He started to sweat in 50 degree weather.
The third time...it changed. Both extremely aware but unsure. We revealed the truths of our situations and why it wouldn't work. I hugged him goodbye and lingered too long. Tall and short but still matched. I didn't know what to think. I needed to stay away...
I couldn't stay away.
I could lie and say the conversations we had were innocent. I was in the midst of having revealed a love not reciprocated. You could save that was the reason I kept responding. It was flattering and amazing to be the object of such interest. We wanted to know everything. We shared feelings, dreams, regrets, secret wishes. We crossed the virtual line and I waited for the guilt.
It didn't come. I was well aware that my relationship status was "none". At least according to my friends, those who cared enough to listen to my story, then shook their heads at me. "Girl, why the hell are you giving girlfriend privileges to someone who doesn't want to be your boyfriend?" After deliberation I had to agree. I told him that my current lover had to come first - because of our situations, that lover was my only real option for the relationship I was sure I wanted. He agreed to my terms...but I realize now he never put out a similar caveat.
And on a Saturday afternoon I went to meet him at his office. I brought cookies. I was nervous and felt like I didn't know who or what was in my skin, walking around with my face. She was different, warmer...maybe truer. I walked in and his face split into the biggest smile aimed my way I'd seen in a long while. Reminded me of a time when I was 20 and walking in the sun with a male friend, who looked down at me, into my eyes, temporarily thunderstruck. He'd just said "wow...your eyes...wow..." and there was this tense, charged moment where a line could have been crossed...and then he just smiled at me. Like I was a damn birthday gift.
He looked at me like that. And my life changed.
Even now, recently, we reminisce about that day. The one that changed me, moved me forward, showed me that a man can move beyond the temptation of woman to the essence of her. My lover and I never got there - his issues, not mine. But I found myself in front of a man I was completely unafraid of, that I trusted completely...
He has never broken that. Never wavered. Never made a promise he couldn't keep. Comforted me but never coddled me. I was never on a pedestal, never a conquest, never someone to be mistreated and forgotten.
There was one time - I was so damn stressed out I think my hair was literally standing on end. I didn't call my lover. I called him - friend of mine. He made me laugh, made me chill the fuck out, made me break open the bottle of wine in my fridge, run a bath, and think of all kinds of wonderful "what-ifs". I could feel his smile, his caring, through the phone. Almost as good as a hug. Plus, hugs between us were dangerous.
Under such a situation, is it any wonder I began to develop feelings?
Having tea together. Talking late into the night. Having him come see my art. Playing video games, watching movies...writing stories for each other.
But every time, there was a barrier. And every day, my feelings grew a bit. Until the day his situation became a bit more permanent...
I didn't even try to deny that I hadn't imagined an eleventh hour alternate outcome. With him showing up at my door in the rain. And staying. For always. Without realizing it, we'd begun pulling closer to each other, so that if something exciting or funny or sad happened, we called each other first. My art took on a different tone. Hell, my life took on a different tone. We pulled closer, but I'd never felt stronger, more sure, more independent, more capable, in my life.
Purposefully pulling apart...had a physical effect on both of us. I tried to not see him, but when circumstances made it impossible not to, we were cordial in manner while our eyes devoured each other.
I tried to start fresh. I moved. I got a job. I reached out a friendly hand to my lover, then more, because I did love him. Despite his lack of attention, despite his acting like I was no one in front of people. Despite the awkward feeling I had that, while I was denying myself, he was not. The weekend I moved into my new place is when it all came to a head.
The night before was my lover's art opening. I was a bit stronger, excited, determined to show him that my love was not only still there, but so was I. My girl helped me dress, did my hair. I picked out his favorite colors to wear. I got there just in time, an expectant air in my step. Plus - his mother was going to be there and I was going to meet her. There was no one else in my mind...so when I walked in and not only did he shake my hand as if I were an acquaintance, I saw his arm around someone else. It hit me in the gut. Later that night, after I left, mortified by it all, I asked why he hadn't acknowledged me. He said "what should I have said? 'Hey, this is my friend who I fuck sometimes?' "
Told me more than enough. I'd joined a dating site on the advice of another girl. I needed the help so I took one of the guys I'd met there up on the offer to help me move some things. I told him it wasn't a date - extremely platonic - and he agreed, especially since it seemed my lover was once again letting me down... We agreed to meet early, paint the living room, go load up our cars with my stuff, bring it back, have lunch, maybe paint the kitchen. He came there on time. We painted one wall and were exhausted. Walked to the clubhouse to get sodas making friendly conversation...
Came back to look at our handiwork, listen to music. I began to think that, while there were zero romantic sparks, I had made a new friend. Then he put his lemonade down, reached over, grabbed me by the neck, and tried to force himself on me. He was stronger and my struggling got me a slap to the face, a knee to the side. I told myself that if I was going to make it through this, I needed to act like it was all a big joke. He got up to go to the bathroom, to "get ready" and I looked at the door and realized my legs wouldn't work. My phone did. I called everyone I could think of. Friend from Miami answered. I whispered to her to stay on the phone, to not hang up. I whispered my address, and when the bathroom door opened, I smiled, held up a "one sec" finger, and began to have a pretend conversation. I stood up as he stood over me. I pretended to close the phone. And told him, in as calm a voice as I could, that I needed to cut our day short. I moved to the door and opened it. He looked at me in disbelief and picked up his stuff. I stood outside the door and willed my body to not shake, not yet, to just get through. I locked the door after him, got in my car, and drove him out of the complex...I drove straight to my friend. He took a look at me and stood up. I couldn't run to him how I wanted...so I just kind of collapsed, shaking, crying, trying not to scream. He held me. Even with rage pumping off of him, he stayed calm, comforted me, let me cry.
Later I looked at the bruises I had, on my neck, scratches on my arms, purple marks on my thighs. I didn't sleep in my new apartment that night.
After that - things were different. I felt guilt - for running to him, for being so quick to discount my lover. I spent a week afterwards by myself. The following Sunday I went to see my lover. We talked, we cried, and we connected. He told me he loved me and I let myself breathe...and late that night when we had some unexpected company, in the form of that same woman he'd had his arm around, I broke apart.
My friend...he called me. Like he knew I was broken. I asked him if he'd felt a "disturbance in the Force". He asked to come see me. I told him yes.
That night changed everything. I showed him every one of my scars, inside and outside. He showed me his own...and we just stopped fucking lying to ourselves.
I've made this story too long. Probably because there's a lot I wanted to say out loud.
We call each other. Send texts, messages, emails. His situation has almost run its course, and mine is non-existent. We are solid friends - not the wishy-washy kind. We care for each other... love each other. I don't know what the future holds, if anything. But every time I hear this song - the title song - I think of him.
Friend of mine. Maybe we won't have to wait for next lifetime. The Fate you believe in seems to have other plans for us...
Thank you for today.
-Asha
(Song as sung by Adele)
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