Knowing Normani was a gift within itself. Part of knowing her would consist of never being able to describe her. There weren't enough words to sum up how amazing of a person she was. In outsider looking in could easily tell she was beautiful. A two minute conversation with her and you'd be able to see how funny and smart she was. A little more time with her and you'd find out just how talented she was.
But, if you knew her like I did then there would be so much more to it. Like how resilient she was. At one point I envied her for that, even admitting it to Normani in one of our late night conversations. Normani couldn't believe what she heard, she accused me of being exactly the same way but that wasn't the case. I was just a master of disguises, I've been doing it for so long it was only a matter of time before I had become a pro.
Being in love with Normani taught me that.
I stood awkwardly in the doorway with my head tilted, staring at a woman who possessed tired red eyes, swollen lips and tear stained cheeks. Apart of me felt sorry for her but the other half felt sorry for myself.
Countless times I've held someone I was in love with while they cried for someone else.
I had come to believe that this was my karma for all the hearts I've broken before I fell for Normani. Maybe it was my turn to have my heart shattered in pieces, maybe it was my turn to feel the wrath and earth shattering hurt of a heartbreak.
And if this was the work of karma then she did a damn good job.
"Megan.." She croaked, I gripped the hem of the door to calm down. Regardless of Normani not loving me I still loved her and anytime she hurt, hurt me.
She hadn't said a word before but I knew why she was here. I always knew.
"C'mon." Was all I could say, not that there was much else I could.
It was almost as if that was what she was waiting for, fleeing into my arms and wrapping her arms around my body. She laid her head against my chest as I clutched her closer. I could hear my heart break with every sob she let out.
"Wanna talk about it?" I asked in a whisper, closing the door with my foot before leading us to my bedroom.
"Just hold me, please."
"Whatever you need."
• • •
I blamed myself, I'd admit it in a heartbeat. I've been more than aware of the feelings I possessed and never spoke on them. When it came to finessing women out of their panties, I was a pro. I had no problem using my words to get me what I desired yet I wasn't woman enough to tell the woman I've been friends with for years that I'm in love with her.
I couldn't be mad at Normani, I never once blamed her for dating or liking other people. I couldn't hate her for simply living her life.
And I couldn't blame the men who tried, I had no right to blame them for the simple fact that they weren't as dumb as me. That they wouldn't watch Normani slip through their finger tips without even trying the way I had.
It was always the nagging thought of Normani not wanting me there. She knew the real me, my deepest secrets and every flaw. She watched me operate with women, how could she ever trust me? Though I would have hung up my jersey for her, she didn't know that, I haven't gave her heavy evidence that I could change.
Plus, there was also the thought that she wouldn't feel the same which could have ruined our friendship. Therefore confessing was never an option because the thought of losing Normani altogether was enough to keep my secret safe within myself.
