Our Yeah | #WattPride (Completed)

Friend

I don't know what triggered the feeling of wanting to have his attention at all times, wanting to be near him, wanting to be alongside him.

I've never felt this way before towards a friend.

Wait, is he? My friend? Should I consider him as a friend?

"My friend". The term, so foreign, so delirious to think about in my current state of human interaction deprivation during vacation mode. "Friend". I repeat the word again in my mind. I feel like a total loser.

He shouldn't have a friend like me, I don't feel worthy.

Maybe I should retreat when I still have the chance? Lessen the blow. Hide while there're still places left to hide and then never return.

Ever.

Should I push him away? No. That would be rude.

Should I make him push me away? Maybe that'll work. Just, maybe.

I hear him laugh then my thoughts disappear, I snap back to reality.

Perhaps there's something about him, other than being a person I just met. Maybe it's just me being crushed by a game of who can splash more water in each other's face, or maybe it was when we tried jumping from the rope together.

The wind, without mercy, meeting our faces, our skin, our toes, our wet bodies, then taking a big splash as we decided to let go, at the exact same time. Our timing was spot on, our screams unheard from the exclusivity of the pond, our pond, in this little world that I've – we've created, together.

Every smile, every laugh, every time our skins touched, I felt that, I was in trouble. Something was growing.

Maybe it was then that I realized that, I was falling in the hole, a very deep hole made by Peter. What horrifies me is not the fall, but the fact that I don't know if I even want to get out or just, stay there. Be there.

He jumps one last time, in close proximity as to where I float, laughs with me and stares at me as we float through the willowy waters. His eyes, piercing through mine like the sun kissing my skin on a hot summer day, then quickly turned into as if I was falling onto a cactus, it hurt as his gaze turned cold when we both realized what was happening. That's when it hit me, hit him – hit both of us.

The stare was enough to tell me, there was something there indeed.

But what? Pain? Hate? Ignorance? Intense hate?

He may as well send me off to my grave by the way he looked at me. The cold gaze, still buried in my mind. Maybe I'm not such a good friend after all.

"I gotta go home" He simply stated as he started swimming to where we set our clothes down. That was my cue to leave as well so I swam behind him, trying not to get too close in his personal space which is supposedly two feet in radial range, or as the cool kids call it "radius".

"Sure. Yeah." My reply, so dumb, so... rushed. I could've asked to at least ride with him home, but, I was too taken aback with his sudden actions.

I didn't know if he picked up my quick change of mood, but I was anxious and mortified by the fact that he'd be gone for the rest of the day. It was my fault, I guess. That's what I get for trying to make him push me away.

"Yeah." He says. His plain, blatant "yeah" has to be the final word. Why?

I put up a forced smile, gave a hand unwavering and un-waving. He responds with a nod, then proceeds to stride onto his bike and straddled out of the vicinity as I took mine and made my walk of shame home, opposite to his path.

I stopped on my tracks to look back and watch his image disappear in the alluring midday mirage.

His "yeah" was so blunt, so curt and so dismissive. I've never felt so defeated, so defenseless, so immature, so... torn. How can such a word be that hurtful? That, powerful?

It boggles me that it has that kind of effect on me, I can't help it.

Why? I have no clue.

It was me, I guess.

No.

Definitely me.