Your hand wrapped gently, but firmly around my wrist. To keep me there. Maybe. I looked at your slender, elegant fingers and then your arm, then your broad shoulders and finally at your smile. Do you have any idea my hand was held aloft to keep you away?


We met in the blandest of circumstances. I don't even remember saying hi. But you said you remember me welcoming you into the fold. I didn't want to tell you, but I greet everyone the same way. I welcome everyone the same way, you were one of the many. How could I have known that you would eventually affect me so?


Life was leaning heavily on me. Thieves broke into my house. Dad was in the hospital. There was no one to turn to but God. In my heart I was on my knees, praying because I learned to do that in tears or in joy. And I was recovering. I still didn't see you as anything but face in the crowd.

You told me your heart was also broken at this time. You told me you were trying to right a wrong. You told me you thought I was cold and surly. At least until I smiled.


You sang one day in March. And every single nerve in me sat up and took notice. You were a beautiful singer. Uninhibited. Unashamed. And with your eyes closed it seemed like there was a pain that was just under the surface. A pain that seemed to echo mine. It was familiar. And it was a song that I have never heard but I could swear was written for me. It was a song I have known all my life.

I noticed you then. I remembered saying hi to you then. And I felt like maybe, I always will.


The month of April I had hoped that I would forget your song. And I kept my distance. You were too bright and raw and open for me. So I just smiled and sang in secret. Whispered your name to the quiet and followed it with a sigh and a shake of my head. This will pass.

You had other ideas. You sent me messages after messages. Picked and prodded at my brain. Brought to light memories I had long since forgotten. Asked why for all the questions I never dared to ask myself.

You sent me silly photos of yourself, tongue out, swollen eyes, grin up to your ears, You told me about that fight with your dad, about that time you were duped into kissing a frog, and how your mom caught you kissing your classmate at kindergarten. You told me about the spider who insists on choking you in your sleep and how sometimes, the world overwhelms so much that you just up and leave and cry out to God. I found that beautiful. With every single time I thought "Me too" you stole a little of my breath away. I wonder if you knew.

You sang to me, You stayed up with me until way past midnight. And I called you... friend.


And you were a friend. You were always the first greeting when I woke up. You were always my last goodnight. You filled and colored my days that it felt like I was a kid walking around with blurry eyes and you were the glasses that just made everything more vivid. And soon the song, my song... our song changed from sad to hopeful.

My heart skipped a bit when you smiled at me, or when you told me about your day, all the things that made you tired and the many things that made you laugh. You told me about your scars and all the things that brought you to your knees and up again. You told me about her, the sunshine of your life and how you missed her, and can't wait to see her, everyday.

May... still

The song stopped painfully. It wasn't ours now was it, but yours? The yearning I heard wasn't for me after all.

Slowly I stepped back. My skin stinging from the warmth I should not have felt, my ears ringing from the words I thought you meant, my tongue burning from singing the songs that were never mine.

You railed against my silence. Unused to the seeming coldness. I wanted to tell you cattily to talk to your sunshine. But I didn't want to let you know that I cared. As much as I do. So schedules were changed, chores were created and I grew better at avoiding you. Your goodmornings were answered with cheerful but hasty goodnights. You told me you missed the friend I wasn't sure I was to you.

One day, you told me you were sick. And against my better judgement I kept you company. I realized that although I stopped singing the song, it was still loud and clear in my head and I still knew every single word. I struggle to say goodbye. Or at least ask if your sunshine knew about me. Should girlfriends know about all their boyfriend's friends? How many friends do you talk to the way you talk to me? If I ask these things, wouldn't that scream that I...

I chocked on my goodbye and swallowed it down painfully. I think that if you want to be friends, then that's what I will be, a friend.

Then with a straight face, you told me how the late nights have been giving you headaches, how you were often so sleepy but struggled to stay awake, how the sleepless nights somehow made you sick. And I looked at you in anger and bewilderment, the goodbye making it's way back up my throat.

Then you looked at me and in a quiet voice you told me that you wanted this, that you deliberately chose this... Friendship.

There was nothing I could say to that. You didn't say anything about leaving your sunshine. The goodbye turned into a lump in my throat that just stayed there painfully. And I left it at that.


Your hand wrapped gently, but firmly around my wrist. To keep me there. Maybe. I looked at your slender, elegant fingers and then your arm, then your broad shoulders and finally at your smile. Do you have any idea that my hand was held aloft to keep you away?

You held on and told me about your day. I quietly told you about mine. Then you told me with a smile how far we've come. And I answered your smile. Yes, we've gotten here love. And here is nowhere. Then I broke away from your hold and stood beside you.

Please tell me what you think. What do you think it means that she stood beside him? What do you think is his reaction to her statement? I appreciate the feedback. Please read and review. Thank you!