A Secret Letter To My “Just Friend”

Dear “Just Friend”,

No, you’re not going to read this on my blog. I’m not posting this because I’m afraid you’d drop by one day and read the only most embarrassing piece I’ve ever written about you. So I’m taking solace here as a secret author instead.

I had fun last weekend when, for the second time around, we spent the night at our friend’s place. Remember the first time we went to his house? It was my birthday, you bought me a cake, we had few beers with him and his wife, and you took me home, and gave me a big birthday hug. Nothing unusual except the cake was special because you knew I’ve only gotten a cake once in my whole life. Yours was the second.

You know that I am not a fan of any drinking spree, at least not in this age. I’ve stopped drinking alcohol when I finished college. You’ve always been a drinker, and proud that you never got drunk. We’ve been friends for quite a while now. You are one of the closest male friends to me. I think I’ve never been like this close to any male friend before. We fight all the time, yet we stick together. You hate the stuff that I like, and I hate all the things that you do. You’re like a baby. You always wanted to be look after. I can’t even depend on you. I feel like I’m stronger. And it feels like you don’t like my strength. Nevertheless, we remained friends. We tell all sorts of things to each other. We both share our dreams, regardless the differences of our fantasies. Every time we talk about the nonsense and sensible things, that’s when I realize that we can only be friends, nothing should be more than that. You’re not the ideal boyfriend, at least for me. You’re immature, which you never protested whenever I call you one. And you’d look at me with that sheepish grin, knowing that you’ve been successful in pissing me off.

Sometimes, you don’t seem to care about me. I can go on with my life without you asking how I am. When I speak my thoughts, you’d just laugh and wouldn’t say a thing. And I’d feel so uncared of.

When I got my heart broken, you even had the guts to tell me to go back to my ex so that we could borrow his car. I knew you were kidding, but hell, I was in so much pain at that time! I suppressed myself crying in front of you because I was afraid that you’d only make fun of me. But there are those times when I feel exhilarated because you care too much that people ask me if we were really just friends.

And I’d say, yes, just friends.

Remember when we attended a party and you had to go out of your route to pick me up because I was wearing a short dress and high heels? You picked me up that night and even mocked me when you saw me all dressed and made up. I laughed and said, “I hate you.” But I’ve noticed that your eyes said otherwise. I felt that you appreciated how I looked then. I felt it when you held me firmly, when you held my shoulders down my waist and you walked me out of the elevator into the ball room. You made me feel special that night.

But that was just that night.

During ordinary days, when I don’t wear that kind of sexy dress and stilettos, when I am just in plain jeans, shirt and sneakers, you don’t even come near to me. But when I put my arms around your shoulder (because we are those kinds of buddies, you know), you get agitated. Then I’d withdraw my arms. There are times that when we both cross the street, you walk so fast and you leave me behind. Why? Why do you love it when you take a piss on me, when you laugh at me, when you get me embarrassed in front of other people, when you fun at me?

So last Saturday, I expected the same treatment. I expected you’d poke all the silliest jokes in the world to make sure that my weekend would be ruined.

And you never failed. You did just that.

You planned it, didn’t you?

But did you also plan to be close to me — so close that we could inhale each other’s breaths, so close that when we sang together, our lips were less than an inch away from each other? So close that you could almost hear my heartbeat? Did you plan to put your arm on my shoulders and held me close, cheek to cheek? Did you plan it when you looked at me in the eyes, then stared at my lips? Did you plan it when you went out of the bathroom and I was going in and you shoved me in the corner with your body until I couldn’t move?

If our friends weren’t looking, I was pretty sure you were going to kiss me.

So I kept my head bowed down. But I felt your body stiffened.

Did you enjoy it when you bullied another guy friend who came over to pick me up? How about when you said you had no one to bring home because I don’t live near your place anymore? How did you feel when we were in the cab, my head on your shoulder and you were holding my face? I felt every move of your palm, making sure that my head stayed still on your shoulder and I felt your grip tighten with every bump on the road.

Dude, I am sure I don’t feel anything for you. I’ve told my mom and every person that matters to me that no, it will never be us. First, you don’t have any feelings for me – I don’t have any feelings for you. I like you as a friend, nothing more and nothing less. And I bet the feelings are mutual.

But why I am taking this time to write everything? Why am I still thinking of you after few days have passed? No, no, I’ll write this for the sake of letting these shitty thoughts out.

Then I’d go back to being your “just friend.”

See you in two days.

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