Blindfolded [Complete]

Befriended

Just friends.

Just friends.

Just friends.

Just friends!

Simple, platonic, most definitely non-sexual, non-romantic, friends.

It is really not that hard to remember, is it?

So will someone please tell my fifty shades of blue balls hanging down my crotch, as I sit next to Kong on the floor of my messy apartment, chomping down on some cold chewy pizza, salivating over that tiny black mole on his collar bone shyly peeking out from under his crisp white shirt, that friends don't constantly obsess over banging each other's brains out.

Seven months.

Seven freakishly long, excruciating, frustrating, mind-numbingly horny months.

That's how long it has been since that fateful night in his car at the beach where I poured out literally everything that had congested my heart with emotions for so long. Extremely sure that he would take his first good look at my fucked up life, even bigger mess of my relationship with my brother, and kick me right to the curb. And trust me when I say that all freaking night I had been both mentally preparing, all the while dreading the next, oh probably a decade or so of my life, being a depressed drunken slob at simultaneously confessing while dumping the most coveted guy in the country all because I didn't have the brainpower to juggle so many things at the same time.

I mean it wasn't really a walk in the park trying to keep my only brother alive past the year all while dealing with his never-ending tantrums, juggling pervy loan sharks out to sink their teeth into me, graduating and job hunting on the side, only to realize that I was drowning in insecurities that the man I fell in love with is a freaking billionaire and I am probably not even worthy of wasting a second of his time with my overly dramatic life story.

So yeah, dreaming of a happily ever after, really not on my list of to do's just yet.

But then he had to go and throw me a curveball that I am yet to recover from.

Ugggh! Why the fuck did I think being his friend was something I could survive through?

Ok, don't get me wrong, it wasn't like the past seven months weren't the most perfect ones of my entire lifetime but they were also increasingly frustrating. As if I wasn't insanely in awe of the man already, he then had to go and transform into the most ideal specimen of a friend that could exist. Keyword obviously being the word friend.

Seriously, can someone tell me how does the man with a gazillion companies under his belt always manages the time to pick up my calls when I do nothing but whine about the most useless, insignificant things under the sun? I mean sure the fact that I almost got bit by the dog I was walking one day or how my final semester project wasn't as far along as it should have seemed life-ending to me, but how could he always sound so interested in listening to it for 45 minutes straight?

Even for some of the actually bigger problems, somehow Kong had become the only person I did want to talk to. He was patient, and kind, and just so, what's the word I am looking for, understanding I guess, every time I went on a long tirade about my brother. Somehow, more than anyone else he seemed to understand that a lot of my confusion stemmed from having to grapple with the guilt I would feel for abandoning my sick brother.

Would I blame myself if I found out he died somewhere alone and sad? Would I ever forgive myself if I kept pondering on whether I should have been there to help him or not? When I stepped away from him once and for all would it make me happy? Or sad? Or angry? Or nothing?