About a Boy

It was almost like I had never been a part of his life.

We met through other people, I can't even remember how really. It was in someone's apartment, one of those ones from university, the same uncomfortable old furniture, blank walls, and the temporary feeling most places have when you move from place to place every eight months.

He walked in, and it wasn't love at first sight, it never is for me and I'm starting to believe that it doesn't exist. To fall for someone before anything comes out of their mouth; before you see how they laugh or what their skin feels like.

But he was cute, and his face always looked angry, a perpetual state of mad that made me think he didn't like me.

But there's something about a person that you get to know vicariously, someone who you hang out with because everyones hanging out and they're there too. And then you start to become more comfortable with the most unlikely people. It's not that he was perfect, or unreasonably hot or incredibly, hopelessly romantic.

He was just him. And he didn't try to be anything else, he liked the things I liked, he was good the same things I wanted to be good at and I think I'm realizing that I like that more than anything else.

He wasn't perfect, he wasn't amazing but I'm learning that that's not what I like. That I liked him because he was him.

And I can only ever notice these things after it's too late to do anything about it.

We spent all our time together or almost. And I don't think we ever had feelings for each other, at least I didn't think we did. Until I saw a video, we were at that same apartement, with that same group, and somebody had taken one of those videos to put on their story. It wasn't special, it was just a night, we were arguing and teasing about some game. I saw it the next day, and I saw how he was looking at me. I don't think I've ever seen someone look at me that way. Then I saw how I was looking at him, and suddenly I realized I liked him.

Shit.

How could I like my friend, this guy I don't have a chance with. I'm sure I'm not his type.

But the way he was looking at me.

Living in this world of uncertainty, do they don't they. Being far too afraid to say anything, to do anything that might wreck what we already have for the chance of something else.

I wish I had never seen that story, never seen how he looked at me. Because it didn't end well.

I am a master of inaction, the best at not doing.

I thought if I just applied those skills, if I just didn't do anything, I'd be fine. It would be like nothing happened, and then the thing would happen that always happens when I fall for someone; they would move on.

I waited to hear about the girls he dated, the people he was interested in. But I never did. Maybe he did that on purpose, but it didn't feel like it.

He didn't find anyone else, and neither did I. And we kept on, like friends, like before. Then one day, we were at his place, and somehow we were alone. And then all the reasons for not doing anything seem to become less and less important.

And he got closer and closer.

And we finally kissed.

And it was exactly how I expected. And it felt like it should have, how it feels when you fall for a friend and know it will end badly but do it anyway.

And it felt so good, and it felt so right.

And it lasted about as long as I knew it would.

Because he left, he went to a different school, a different country. And I knew this would happen, but it didn't stop it from hurting.

I left too, it wasn't all him, we knew this would happen.

But now it's like none of it ever happened. Like we were never a part of each other's lives; like he was never there.

Except I still feel it. Not like when I saw him for the first time and thought he was angry at the world.

But what I felt when I saw him smile at me the way he did, when I saw that look in his eyes.

And I don't know if I can ever get rid of that feeling.