"You know where all the cool places are," she says to me over the phone, and I am overcome by this unnecessary flattery. I am suddenly pressured to find somewhere quaint, somewhere different, somewhere less commercial, somewhere cool. We change from Starbucks to Brielle's in a matter of seconds, at the mere invocation of my suggestion. It's a funny sort of power that I have over my social circles. I feel unworthy.
I've been to this place a few lonely times. It's never had any significance. I drink there when I'm feeling romantic. I've often been inclined to stop by in the early evening during the fall, lackadaisically entertaining the thought of writing the next great American novel right there at one of those antique tables as I nurse my chai or my tea. (Life moves fast enough without the aid of a double shot espresso.)
Tonight I am surrounded by people that love me. And I love them. I love them so they can't imagine. Tonight I sit next to him like I have for six years--just exactly the same. And it wasn't different at all until we heard a whisper from that darkened corner. And I walked over, following the echo of this whisper that broke the silence and I sat down in a soft chair. And she sat across from me. And then you came too.
I began to voice my insecurities, for whatever reason. Maybe because I've been alone for so long now, maybe because my subconscious has highly ulterior motives. And then you broke my heart. "When I try to picture the perfect woman, I think of you," or something like this. Only it's not so direct and there's a lot more candid stammering, which is your way. And she leaves us.
We were silent forever, which is not nearly as long as I have waited to voice myself to you. And we are closer than forever has allowed. I imagine the two of us painted smoothly on the side of an ancient Grecian artifact, forever suspended in this chair, frozen in a mix of fear, frustration, and want. I should have just done it. We should have. You should have. Because you know how scared I get. How awkward. How uncomfortable I am in this skin. But we didn't. We turned our heads and spoke into the floor and apologized. And we waited in vain for her to come back. And someone else did. But it took a while. Too long.
You're my best friend. I should have kissed you then. And even if it would have been a mistake to do so, it would have been the best mistake I've ever made.
I never want to go there without you again.
Bobble Head Nite this Weekend! BC Times Coverage
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