A Curious Friendship (One shot Story)

In my first year in college, a few months before my seventeenth birthday, I fell I love for the first time. Like the characters in feel-good movies and trashy romance novels, I was giddy with the discovery of first love. The world seemed brighter and more beautiful. I was young, naïve, and idealistic.

Never mind that his hair curled and scattered all over the wrong places, in some ways worse than Harry Potter's own unkempt mane.  Never mind that he had the fashion sense of a starving artist (he is an artist, by the way). Never mind that he drove me crazy with the way he spoke in riddles sometimes, as if I was some spy tasked to decipher a complicated code. And never mind that I was clueless on how serious he was about me,

and how exactly should I act in a relationship.

Whenever he entered a room, everything would suddenly turn black and white, with only him in sharp 16-bit color, moving in slow motion. Beyond his messy hair and glasses, was my dream. I was in love, plain and simple.

With that first love, though, came my first heartbreak. I realized that love was not all hearts and flowers, with him effectively banishing some of my childish notions about romance and happy endings.

It was difficult coming to terms with the pain, but I knew I would survive. I was certain of one thing, though – our chance for romance was moot, but I would like to keep him as a friend.

I'd like to say that the road to friendship was easy, but it was not exactly smooth or pothole-free. At first, there were several awkward moments, colored by my own hurt and pride. It took some time – and some long talks – to settle all our issues and slowly, gradually, become friends.

Now I marvel at how far we've come in our friendship. Several mistakes, awakenings, realizations and epiphanies of mine later, he is still with me - and remains there for me, be the issue a major family crisis or just a date from hell. Though he had more experiences and is a bit older – some would say much older (hehe ^_^) – than me, he was never patronizing or going "I told you so" whenever I tell him about my issues.

He is still an artist, by the way, but his taste in clothes has long since improved. His hair still sticks out all over the place sometimes, but he quickly attends to the problem with a visit to the barber - when he feels like it. He still has a tendency to be cryptic, but I've gotten used to it. I just rib him about it when it becomes too much even for me.

I once came across a classic quote that said "Friendship often ends in love, but love in friendship, never." Before, I believed that. Normally, a good friendship would serve as the foundation of a long, lasting romance. But I found out for myself that it could also work the other way around. My past with this guy, including the hurt and frustrations, is what made our friendship now deeper and all the more meaningful.

Someone once asked me what I would change if I could write my story with him all over again. I smiled, saying I wouldn't change a single word. ♥