Monday, March 5, 2007

The day he told me he loved me.

My heart started beating very fast today. I thought I saw him walking down the street. In my mind, I was practicing what I was going to say. "It's been a long time, how are you?" Should I hug him? Kiss him? Be standoffish?

But no. It wasn't him. My heart sunk and emptiness filled me. So I went home and I looked at his photos and talked to them. I asked him how he was. And if he was still mad at me? And then I whispered. And I imagined the photo asking me to talk up. But then I whispered again. And I couldn't look in his eyes. The photo seemed to stare back at me willing me to make eye contact.

Then I would put it away carefully and whisper once more, "Do you still love me?"

After our first kiss, we grew incredibly close, even closer than before. And that is when I found out that there was no other girl. That was perhaps the best day of my life.

It was July 17th, and we had just finished playing a game of Scrabble and he was brushing his teeth. I was sitting on the bed, he had his own apartment at this time, and I was over as much as possible. Remember though we were still just good friends and we hadn't kissed since that day at the picnic. Even though we slept in the same bed, he was always the perfect gentleman.

So I was there sitting on the bed plumping a pillow, and he walked into the room with just his boxers on and a white ti-shirt and he had his toothbrush in his mouth. As I looked at him, it suddenly hit me that I loved him as more than a friend, and my insides swelled with a foreign emotion. We had been best friends for 13 years at this point and I was 20 and he was 23. I started laughing and he opened his mouth to ask me what I was laughing at and toothpaste fell on his tishirt.

I got off the bed and grabbed a tissue and wiped the toothpaste off of his tishirt. "For a smart guy, you sure do get your clothes dirty easily," I said and laughed again. Then I poked him in the stomach and he poked me back. My body erupted with all sorts of weird feelings when he poked me.

When he went back to the bathroom I changed into my pajamas. I wished that I had something less dowdy to wear. He came back into the room just as I had finished changing and we decided to watch a film before we went to sleep. So out we trudged to the living and put on "The Usual Suspects," one of our fav films. We would put on German accents and pretend to be Kaiser Sose. I was abit tired as we were watching it and I rested my head on his shoulder as the film started and then eventually just lay down on the couch with my head on his lap and pretended to be watching the film when really my eyes were in and out of sleep.

He asked me if I just wanted to go to bed, but I enjoyed the drowsy feeling and being close to him and so I said no. It was such a comfortable feeling because then he would rub my stomach and draw little pictures on it, well mainly shapes, but for some reason it always made me feel close to him. He never tried any funny business, it wasn't like that. But that night as he rubbed my stomach, I glanced up at him and I felt upset. Overwhelmed that my best friend had been in love with someone who didn't feel the same way for him.

"Who was she?" I asked.
"Huh?" he said, still watching the tv screen.
"Who was she?"
"She who?", still not moving his face.
"The girl you loved?" I said softly, trying desperately to fight the jealousy that was rising in me.
"Ah," he glanced at me and his hand stopped rubbing my stomach. He smiled at me, "hmm, do we have to talk about this now?"
I looked up at him, and turned my body to the side abit, my face was right next to his stomach, I leaned in and bit it a little bit. And then looked back at him and grinned. "Yes, if you don't want me to bit you".
"Ok, ok, I don't want that" and he helped me sit up. I sat on the couch and curled my legs up and faced him.
"So, who was she?"
He put his head back abit, and sighed a little.
"Does it still hurt?" I said softly, envious that he still seemed to care about her. This girl he had described as perfect, both in looks and intelligence.
He leaned over and brushed some hair out of my face and tucked it behind my ear. And then to my utter amazement he kissed me. Right on the lips. Just one sweet and sold kiss. And then he pulled back.
And I just stared at him in amazement.
"It was you silly"
"It was me? but.."
"How could you think otherwise? I have spent my whole life with almost no-one but you."
"But, but that was because we were best friends and she didn't like you? Wasn't it?"
"No"
He looked away from me then, and seemed to grow serious. I became a little scared. "Tal, Tal, what's wrong?"

And then he told me that he hadn't wanted to tell me, that he thought that I should grow and get to know other people. That he thought that he had monoplozed my time and that he knew that he was in love with me when he was 13 and that he just wanted me to be happy. That he didn't want to use our friendship as a stepping stone to a relationship. He felt that I needed to explore the world and he didn't want to burden me with his feelings.

I was shocked. I had never even guessed. Inside I was deliriously happy.

We just started at each other, and then I let out a big yawn. "Let's go to bed sleepyhead," he got up and pulled me to my feet. As I got up I faced him, I loved his his height, he made me feel protected, and that wasn't an easy feat because I was 5'8 but he was 6'2 and as I looked up at him, I kinda smiled. And then I yawned again and ruined the sultry look I had hoped I was giving him. He put his arm around my waist and led me to the bedroom.

I kinda jumped into the bed and tucked myself in under the duvet whilst he turned off the tv and the lights and made sure the frontdoor was locked. And then he got into bed, and I felt a thrill that I had never felt before when we had shared a bed.

I liked to play humming songs when falling asleep. One person would hum a song and the other person would have to guess it. So I started humming the Banarama song, "Cruel summer" and then he took my hand and he said, "Are you ok?"

I couldn't see his face because it was so dark, but I knew he was concerned. Maybe worried that he had told me too much. So I leaned up to him and gave him a kiss on the lips and whispered, "yes". And then I put my head on his chest and my arms aound him and he kissed my head and started humming a song. I think it was Dancing Queen from Abba. But I was drifting.

The last words I remember hearing were "I love you". And he was stroking my back. I slept like a baby that night. I was so content.

It got better after that. We were the people that made others believe in love.

I still don't quite know how this happened to us. It shouldn't have happened.

You know that next morning, when I woke up, and opened my eyes, I was staring right into his face and his eyes were open and staring into mine. He looked hesitant, unsure. Not like my Jacob, who was always so self-assured. I leaned towards him, and kissed him and then licked his lips and told him, "I love you too, you goof" and then he started to tickle me and we both started laughing.

I think that I'll try and call him today. I mean, maybe it was him walking down the street? Maybe.