Waiting for Love

Friday

I stayed at my sister's house.

I had realised that my behaviour had been nothing but that of a foolish child and was therefore too embarrassed to face him any time soon. My sister said I could stay for as long as I wanted. After all, we were family.

I would miss dinner with his mother and I was very well aware of that. I was wondering whether he would leave without me. Of course, I thought; it was obvious that I could have never been more important to him than his mother. Not that I blame him.

I had barely slept at all. I could not sleep. I stayed awake thinking. Thinking and waiting for him. I was waiting for him even though I knew exactly that it was hopeless.
My sister's children wanted to know why I was in such a depressive mood; they wanted to know why I was there and not at home and why I was with them and not with him. I answered neither of their questions. Instead, I locked myself inside the guest room until they left.

Prior to this, she had asked if I would like to join them. They would go to the park - she, her spouse and their children. They would enjoy the last days of summer. I declined. She asked again emphasising that I should not stay there alone for they would come back rather late. I declined.

It was their family tradition. When school started again they would head out each Friday and enjoy the sadly not everlasting summer. Neither did I want to interfere nor did I want to leave the guest room.

They are such a picture perfect family.

I yearned for a bond as strong as theirs. And there is but one person I would love to have that kind of bond with. Oh, I have no art to reckon my groans; but that I love him the best, oh most best, believe me.

Do not ever fall in love with your best friend. It is indeed not worth it.

Around the time when the sun set, it begun to rain. It could not have been a coincidence; the weather was clearly representing my inner turmoil. Or - which is in fact more likely - it had been too hot the previous days.

I like rain. I love storm.

Moving water (and therefore rain) has negative ions which cause a biochemical reaction that reduces stress. Negative ions can have the same effect as anti depressants.

I love rain.

It knocked on the door. I believed that it was probably my sister and her family so I left the room for the very first time that day in order to open the door.

It was not my sister who was standing there. And it was not her spouse or any of their children. No, the one who had knocked on the door and lured me out of the room was the one I loved the most.

He was soaking wet.

I cried again. I was not sobbing, no; tears were streaming down my face. I was silent. Silent for I internally screamed the loudest cry.

He was anxious, told me to, please, stop crying, please. He said I should not be afraid. He said I should come back home. He had missed me.

I said that he should forget what I had told him the day before, that I will stop loving him, that we can go back to being friends.
He said that I should refrain from doing so. I wanted to ask why, but I got my answer. My answer was the feeling of his soft lips pressing ever so gently against mine.

I did not dream this. It was real. It happened.

I pulled him inside for I did not want him to catch a cold, not for any other reason. Maybe that was a lie.

We were alone.

My sister and her family were still at the park after having looked for shelter. The car had been too far away.

I would have never wanted them to see us together the way we were together on Friday. But it was Friday which is the day of the family outing.

Thank the stars it was Friday.