• That Beautiful Flight

    by  • November 15, 2014 • * Safe for Work *, Wish • 0 Comments

    Hey. It’s me again. We haven’t spoken in two days. I know that it’s because you’re sick, and I hope you’re okay.

    You know, I’m scared. I think I’m doing a pretty good job of hiding it from you, actually. I think I’m hiding my feelings pretty well, too. Too well, actually.

    I think I love you, you see. And that isn’t okay. Because I’d rather have this friendship than nothing, and I think that loving you would end it.

    There’s a part of me that wants to dive headfirst off that cliff. If I was guaranteed a long flight, I think I would. But you might shoot me down immediately, and then our friendship would never recover.

    We’re running out of time, though. I’ve only got the rest of this semester until we might never see one another again. I’ll go and get a job, and you’ll stay in school, then move on to grad school. And maybe you’ll marry that girl back home, and she’ll be your best friend instead of me.

    What will you think when you look back at your college years? Maybe I’m being pretentious, but I think that I’ll figure pretty heavily in your memories. I hope so, at least. You are the most important part of my college life, even though we’ve only been friends for the past two years now. Less than half of my college career, and you completely eclipse the rest.

    I don’t know what I’ll think. Maybe I’ll regret not making a move, but as long as you have her, and you keep talking about her, I’m not going to step any farther in. I’m okay with being the person you flirt with, the one you cuddle with, the one you don’t have to worry about things getting serious with. So if you want more, you’re going to have to take the lead.

    I think you’re afraid. Yeah, you have more experience than me. You’re less afraid than me. You don’t worry about people’s perceptions as much. But you’re still afraid. I don’t know what you’re afraid of. Are you afraid of hurting me? Of it getting too serious? Of pushing me? Of getting hurt yourself? Of losing the other girl?

    I’m thinking about jumping off that cliff again. Because I want to hold your hand as we walk down the street. To not be constantly wondering if you mean more than you let on. To know that I’m important to you. I want to be more than your best friend.

    I’m going to admit it- you know how you always say that I get really cuddley when I’m drunk? I’m not as drunk as I seem- I’m faking. I’m using it as an excuse to get close to you. I want to hear your heartbeat, to feel your warmth. To feel you against me.

    I don’t want to have to pretend to be drunk anymore.

    The cliff is so high. If there was grass at the bottom I might do it. But all I see are jagged rocks, waiting to tear me to shreds. I can’t survive without you at this point.

    It would be a glorious flight, though.

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