Friendship is supposed to be simple. It's supposed to be easy. But with her, things were never simple. Or it might be because I couldn't shake off my feelings.
At first, everything seemed fine. We talked daily, shared little but sacred moments, laughed at our dark jokes. But as time passed, something began to bother me. It was something I didn't want to admit to myself but it did.
She was always surrounded by other guys.
It wasn't like she was doing anything wrong. She had her group of friends, and most of them were male. She laughed with them, playfully hit them on the arms, exchanged witty banter with ease. And why wouldn't she? She was comfortable with them. She was naturally outgoing.
But for me, every time I saw her with them, something twisted inside my chest.
I tried to ignore it at first. Told myself it was nothing.
"She's just friendly," I reminded myself.
But when I watched her throw her head back in laughter at one of their jokes, I wondered—had she ever laughed like that with me?
I started keeping my distance. Deep down I was jealous, I couldn't watch any other man touching or staring at her. I was getting possessive but because I cared, rightly so I know some of those boys and I know about their personality.
I got sad because of that and stopped replying to her texts as quickly as before. I found excuses to be elsewhere when she was around. I tried to convince myself that I didn't care. That it didn't bother me.
But no matter how much I tried, I couldn't escape her.
She had this way of pulling me back in, like gravity. Gravitational pull was indeed strong and divine.
"Hey, are you okay?" she asked one afternoon, nudging my shoulder.
"Yeah, just busy," I lied.
She frowned. "Are you sure? You're not avoiding me, are you?"
I forced a smile. "Why would I do that?"
She stared at me for a moment before shrugging. "I don't know. But if you are, stop it. I like talking to you."
My heart clenched. She had no idea how much I liked talking to her too. But I couldn't shake the feeling or being left alone or she falling for another man.
And so, despite my best efforts, I found myself drawn back into her world.
One evening, we went out for street food. The air was thick with the aroma of grilled meat and spices, the streets alive with chatter and the occasional honk of rickshaws. She was in her element, laughing and joking around.
But my mind was elsewhere.
I had been holding back for too long.
I had tried to ignore my feelings. I had tried to avoid her. But none of it worked. And as I watched her that night her hair messy from the wind, her lips curling into that beautiful, effortless smile. And I knew I couldn't keep quiet anymore.
So, I took a deep breath.
"There's something I need to tell you," I said.
She turned to me, tilting her head slightly. "What is it?"
I exhaled slowly, my heart pounding against my ribs.
"I like you."
She choked on her food, coughing up and staring at me.
For a moment, the world around us seemed to freeze. The noise of the market faded, the flickering streetlights casting long shadows.
She didn't say anything.
She just stood there, looking at me. I couldn't tell whether it was shock or confusion or Anger.
But I braced myself, hoping for the worst scenario.