Unrequited

Chapter. 1

My heart continues to ache.

Ache

Ache is continuous pain, it doesn’t leave you, it is persistent, it is cruel and yet it is my only constant companion.

That ache, I felt it again, with Gale in my presence this morning, it was constant and throbbing, more so because she had made me breakfast.

 “Flynn!” She had called. I heard the clicking of the doorknob. She’s letting herself inside the house like she usually does.

“Hey,” I greet, giving her a fake smile. I feel nauseous.

“Hey,” she greets back, giving me one of her infamous hugs. “I made you breakfast!”

“Why?” Such a vague word and yet it is vast at the same time, it’s followed with so many thoughts and yet Gale does not know this, Gale does not know the hidden questions I long to ask, ‘why do you continue to be so beautiful? Why do you make me hurt? Why are you doing this to me?’ I wanted to add, but all I said was, “why’d you make me breakfast?”

“Oh, well, because I love you, silly!” And that hurt, that hurt so much. Gale’s I-love-you’s always hurt, because it’s meant nothing more than brotherly. Not being told I love you, is better than an I love you, because she not saying I love you to me, it gives me hope, it means there is a potential for an I love you some day, it means I have a chance, and that maybe one day, she’ll love me too. I-love-you’s however, diminish my hope, it means she only thinks of me as a brother and that’s that. You can’t feel anything romantic for your brother, or your sister, or your mum and dad. Gale’s I-love-you’s are never not painful, are never not a slap in the face, a throbbing, an ache.

“Oh, right.” I say, in an awfully high-pitched, ridiculously cheerful voice.

“Yeah, so, I made you waffles and an egg with avocado on whole wheat sandwich! That’s your favourite!” She clapped her hands gleefully before she reached into her paper bag and pulled out two lunchboxes. “I know your mum never does whip you up breakfast or lunch or even dinner, so being the best friend ever, I woke up super extra early today.”

I understand why my mum doesn’t cook for me, never does, because well, she’s a single mum and that’s hard. It’s hard that she has to work until late at night and then she has to go clean the house and when she’s done it’s so late she needs to go to bed and not having someone else to shoulder everything with you, it’s hard. My mum is a strong independent woman. My mum loves me and she may not show it through cooking me something---because she can’t----but she shows it through something she can do, like working an extra shift so I could buy the materials I need for a project, or that book I’ve been longing to buy.

But I guess, I understand how Gale doesn’t understand, I mean her parents are well….Her parents are together and they rarely fight and her mum cooks for her all the time.

 “Let’s eat. I’m famished.” Gale’s always famished.  That also adds to the endless things I love about her.

“Sure,” I smile, for real this time, Gale may be the reason I ache but she’s also one of the very few people, who can make me smile for real.