When Love Becomes an Instinct

Chapter One

        “Hey! I am sorry I am not available at the moment, but always feel free to leave a message after the beep! Ciao! Mwah!”

        Yes. That was her voice right there, sounding rather jolly and persuasive. Persuasive enough to let her callers think that her actual mood is exactly the same as her giddy, almost childish façade.

        Beep!

 

        “Hi Robyn! It’s me, Dianne. Have you received my messages? My phone calls? Are you dead? If not, please contact me A.S.A.P! Please do not keep me in suspense. If you do not want to come to my engagement party Saturday the week after next and just throw our friendship away, please just say so. But know that I won’t talk to you EVER after that, okay? I love you very much!”

 

        Beep!

 

        She shook her head in amazement, sending her sleek black hair waving like silk-on-skin from her pony tail. Trust Dianne to threaten you and warn you and struck your conscience to the core with her fruitful words and then trust her even more to end the conversation with an, “I love you,” that sounds familiarly genuine.

        Oh Dianne. She thought, her eyebrows rising in time with her shoulders. Why are you always so ridiculously kind?

 

        Then she smiled.

        In all honesty, ridiculous is not –and never- will be the right word for her best friend’s kindness. They had been together since college and although six years may not be so long a time to know full well of one’s friend, (She has heard of ten-year friendships ruined due to dishonesty.) Well, that was, she thought, enough time to know that dear Dianne’s kindness can never be termed ridiculous.

         Dianne was tact, honest, talkative; when she spoke, it was nothing but truth coming out from her mouth. It was -she thought with a smile on her face as she continued to haul her favorite books all of which she planned to donate to Book Worms from the shelves into a huge brown box- her most favorite trait of Dianne’s. Being tact, honest, and talkative, that is.

        And to hear her voice holding the same, firm tone of irritation, she knew right away that although her best friend loved her, she was still crushed to know that she was not returning any of her friend’s calls or even just the mere receiving of it.

         It was not because she doesn’t want to talk to Dianne. It was just that, well, she was getting married.

        Dianne, that was. Not her.

        She knew that her reason was the one deserving of the word “ridiculous” more than Dianne’s kindness, but then she needed time.

 Time for what, she was not sure. Think? Maybe.

Reflect? That is a word full of responsibilities.

Time to be alone? Yes, maybe. No, definitely!

        Because the truth of the matter was that she was jealous. Plain and simple. No not simple. Jealousy could never be simple. It was evil. It was vile. But she was jealous of her friend. Dianne was getting married and while she knew that her friend would always be her friend, it did not necessarily mean that she would always be there when she needed her, needed someone to talk to because whether she believed it or not, her friend was going to have a family of her own. They were not in college anymore to think that they would always be there for each other. Whether she liked it or not, she would have to fare alone.