Still The One

Seven

Human beings are funny. They long to be with the person they love but refuse to admit it openly. Some are afraid to show even the slightest sign of affection because of fear. Fear that their feelings may not be recognized, or even worse, returned. But one thing about human beings that puzzles me the most is their conscious effort to be connected with the object of their affection even if it kills them slowly within. – Sigmund Freud

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Seven
Six years ago – November 16, 2012

Not a single driver was out on the road, which gave me the freedom to go as fast as I wanted. I stepped on the gas, accelerating to a risky rate. I could feel the purr of the engine and the wide cracks in the streets pavement that my shock absorbers were unable to avert. The buildings that I passed by were now a blur and the only sound heard was the loud exhaust, due to my broken muffler.

“You’re gonna kill us!” Harry shouted, holding on to the arm rests at his sides.

“Calm down, Hair. I just like to drive a little fast,” I winked at him. His face was frightened and he didn’t even attempt to look unfazed. We were so comfortable around each other that he rarely hid his true feelings or emotions. I watched as his knuckles turned white and his long fingers gripped the door handle with panic. His creamy complexion was pale, though not as pale as mine.

With his jaw clenched tightly, he noticed my analyzing stare. “Alice! What are you looking at me for? Look at the road!”

I laughed loudly, throwing my head back. I found his nervousness strangely adorable. And I was an okay driver. I was only trying to scare him a bit. If there was even the slight chance that we’d crash, I’d never risk it with Harry in the car with me. He’s just a little baby sometimes.

It was around three in the morning when I couldn’t sleep. I was lying down in bed, and just wondering why things were the way they were. A memory came to mind – one where Harry was over at my place and he helped me stick these glow-in-the-dark stars to the ceiling. The little things were for babies and such, but he insisted that they were cool and gave my room some life. That day I watched as he jumped on my bed and stuck them to the top, laughing and not caring when I made fun of him. He was always like that. He did whatever he wanted and just didn’t care. And the little stars were actually really nice. Now, they were glowing above me, giving me reason to stay up and think.

Harry had never indicated that we could have been more, but why had I specifically wanted to be just friends? Maybe I could have dealt with the girls. He always chose me over them in the end. I can’t even remember a time when anyone was more important than me, and that was something that made me love him all the more. And maybe I could have dealt with the constant fear of being left for another. Surely there would always be other choices. But could I have been good enough for him? I don’t think anyone in the world would ever be.

I was getting tired of thinking. I took my phone off the table beside my bed and dialed Harry’s number, deciding I wasn’t going to sleep that night.

“Hello?” he groaned, probably rubbing his eyes.