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That was it . . . ?
They had finally kissed four months after I began liking him. Bianca knew I loved him first, yet she decided it was worth kissing him like it was their last day of life. And they did it in front of me. Only me. I'm not surprised.
Love the irony of the situation.
At first it didn't hit me as hard as I thought it would. I stood there dumbstruck, wide-eyed. Then I laughed. He despised me. This could never work out! There are bigger chances of finding out that a flower is nothing more than an elephant. I couldn't care any less, there was simply no room for any disappointment.
So, I walked home and saw Johannes not far behind following. Our home is in the same direction. Also, if I look out of my window, I can see his house. It's a five-minute walking distance, I believe.
Walking home, all I could think about was irony of the situation. I wasn't feeling anything, so maybe my feelings were fake? Maybe it was just all in my head? Maybe I should re-evaluate what a crush really means. Shouldn't I feel like crying?
Then, when I entered my home, I still didn't feel anything. I greeted my family like I normally would, smiled like I always did. It was all genuine. It wasn't until I felt the scent of the delicious smell of samosas; It didn't hit me until then and I could not really breathe. It was a horrible revelation and all I needed was to breathe.
My supposed best friend kissed the boy I was in love with even after knowing how great deal he meant to me. They had actually shared a kiss. And I wasn't standing where Bianca was. I was the third wheeler.
I hated Bianca. Just like I almost hate you now. Almost. I really don't hate you.
I walked into the bathroom and with a swift motion, I locked myself in there and silently cried, not wanting my ugly cries to be heard by my parents or siblings. I brought my phone up in front of me and looked for Anette's number. Only she understood me. Well, except you, who I had grown fond of over the months. We both insulted each other more than we talked, but you were a nice friend to have.
You make me feel.
I texted Anette, telling her what happened. When an hour had passed by, with me still sitting on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor crying, she still had yet to answer. I was tired of waiting and I needed someone to hear and listen.
So I messaged you, who I knew I could trust more than I could even trust myself and you answered immediately. This made me feel happy because you made me laugh even if my life felt like it was ending drastically and you told me that I was so more special than, I quote "bitchy over-caked Bianca".
You understood. And by understanding and listening and making me laugh where I sat alone on the cold tiles of the bathroom floor, you managed to make me BREATHE again for a moment.
Thinking back to it, I was a fool for depending on someone like that.
Yours truly.
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