Her Bestfriend is A Man
Daniel stood alone in his apartment. The far-off wail of sirens along 7th Avenue echoed in through the window, but it was unable to drown out the question clawing in his mind. He stared at his reflection on the dark TV screen, and barely audible above the city noise, he whispered, “I love Cindy more than anything, but her best friend is a man.”
This question troubled him, month after month. Cindy was everything he desired: brilliant, ambitious, magnetic. Her laughter would light up a room. However, her connection with Frederick as her best friend since college was clouding Daniel’s heart. All the shared jokes reminded him he was not her everything. His desire was to have been her support, her trusted friend, and her only love, but fear held him back. The fear of pushing her away, the fear of appearing small, the fear of lack of not being enough.
He sat in his leather armchair holding his phone in hand, thumb hovering over Cindy’s name in his contacts list. Should he call her? Spill the insecurity gnawing on him? Or would that simply show his inability to integrate into her world, in which Frederick was an established reality, much like the city’s ceaseless beat? The fact Daniel wanted to have a life with Cindy, get married, have children, live in a brownstone in Park Slope, conflicted with his fear of losing her to someone who knew her better than he did. He closed his eyes, and here he left the question to hang unanswered. Bur Frederick’s presence was, however, a crack in his drafted blueprint, a factor he had no control over. Daniel gripped his phone tighter; the weight of his doubt forced him down. He desired to be enough for Cindy, but the fear that he wasn’t left him on the edge of silence and a loop of desires and doubts.
