⪻A friend is someone who knows the song in your heart and can sing it back to you when you have forgotten the words.⪼
- Unknown
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Standing in front of me, Chris eyed me carefully, so I did my best to smile. I knew he was trying to see if I really meant it, and I didn't want him to feel guilty. If he's met a girl he likes, why should I be selfish and play the best friend card just to keep him all to myself? Part of me wanted to, but love also entails putting the other's happiness before yours, doesn't it?
I have no right to control his life, to interfere with his decisions. Being so close, so tightly invested in each other's life, it gives me the privilege of knowing everything, not deciding for him or worse, guilt tripping him into doing what I want. When Chris asks something of me, I comply because I want to, not because he's giving me an order or manipulating me, and the same goes for him. Despite what everyone else thinks about him bossing me around.
He tilted his head to the side, staring at my fake smile. In the end, he sighed. "You're a terrible liar, Viv, you know that, right?" He claimed, causing me to frown. Even more when he plopped back onto the couch, next to me.
"I ..."
I nearly fainted when he wrapped an arm around my waist, and pulled me into him, leaving his temple against mine. "Come on, Vivy," he chuckled, "did you seriously think I'd leave you for a booty call?"
I found myself smiling as I relaxed in his arms. "A booty call, huh?" I mocked. "What happened to, I'm not a flings kind of guy?"
He laughed. "I mean, I'm single, I can mingle." He shrugged.
I rolled my eyes at his lame comeback. But I needed to know. "So," I left my head on his shoulder as he leaned back against the sofa, "Cherise is just a booty call?"
Chris cleared his throat, clearly uncomfortable with telling me about her, which is weird, because he's always recounted me everything about his girlfriends. Why is this one different? "I barely know her," he admitted, "we met at Shay's bar last week and we've uh ... well, you know ..." he waved his hand in the air.
"I know?"
"Come on, Viv, you get what I mean."
"I do," I lifted my head to look at him, "I just didn't think ..." I stopped, unsure whether I should say it or not.
"You don't really think I have sex only when I'm in a relationship, do you?" Chris frowned.
Of course, not. Silly me. How could I ever think that the only women that were able to take him from me were the ones he actively dated? What I don't understand is why did he always claim he wasn't the one-night-stand type of guy, if he is.
As if on cue, Chris explained: "Viv, you know I don't like one-night-stands. But after Karen, I needed ..." he clouded over, and I regretted my nosiness, which had caused him hurt.
"I'm sorry," I said hastily, not wanting to waste one thought more than necessary on his ex. "I didn't mean to pry."
He half smiled. "Come on, now, Vivy, it's not prying when you're my better half." Chris claimed, leaving his temple against mine again.
I sucked in a breath to try and control the rapidly increasing beats of my heart. He always says things like that, and I just don't know how to keep on reminding myself that it's all 100% platonic. I guess you see my problem here ... how do you deal with an unrequited love for someone that's so sweet and tender and adorable with you?
Someone that touches you so much that your ex wanted to strangle him. Someone that hates every single guy you go out with, even only for one night. Someone that literally punched your high school boyfriend when he learned you two had sex for the first time. Someone that blurs the line between friendly love and romantic love so many times in one day that's enough to confuse even the coldest person ever existed.
I placed my hand on Chris' chest, and lightly pushed him off. "The time will come when you'll forget about me because of this amazing girl you've met." I commented, half serious.
Chris gave me one of his stern, almost irate you-didn't-just-say-what-I-think-you-just-said looks that always have me cowering back for forgiveness. I was sure he was really mad when he pulled back completely, leaving me with a stirring emptiness inside that, I've always known, only he can create and only he can fill. Chris shook his head, clearly disbelieving. "I think I've told you thousands and thousands of times, Vivian." There you go, my full name – he only uses it when he's really angry. "We've had this conversation so many times, you should know the words by heart."
"I do." I rolled my eyes. "But I also know that it's a simple fact of life. People meet someone they want to share their life with, and inevitably friends get left behind."
"That won't happen to us." Chris stated, dead serious.
I sat up straight. "You know it will," I gave him a faint smile, "we're just blessed to have come this far."
"We promised, Vivian." Chris stated, anger mixed with hurt in his voice, which already had my eyes fill with unshed tears. "We promised to never part. No matter what. You know I'd give up everything for you. You're my universe. No one and nothing can change that."
You're my universe. How can I not cry all my tears when he says something like that? And he means it, I know he does. He just doesn't see how much it hurts. "I know," I closed my eyes, to make sure I wouldn't really cry, "but we both want a partner, don't we? Someday, you'll find someone to love unconditionally, and-"
"I keep telling you, nobody can replace you."
"But this person might not like our bond, and for the sake of love, you could ... or I could ..." I heaved a deep sigh. "I'm not saying we'll part ways, I'm just saying that one day, I won't be number one in your life."
"Nonsense." He grumbled. "We've been together 20 years, nothing can break that."
"20 years and a lot of failed relationships." I pointed out. He shook his head, not wanting to hear it, but I had to try once again to get it through his thick skull. We need to be prepared for the moment we will – or rather he will – meet The One. "Without this," I pointed at me and him, meaning our tight bond, something that some people have called weird and toxic even, "maybe we'd have had more luck in that sense."
"Nonsense," he huffed, "those people weren't right for us. Had they wanted to stay, they would have. Plain and simple."
"Would you stay if your girlfriend always put another guy before you? Would you stay if you knew you could never be the number one priority in your partner's life?"
"Oh, come on!"
"Think about it, Chris," I said calmly, "if your girlfriend had a male best friend she spends a lot of time with, if she always picked him over you, wouldn't you be jealous? Wouldn't you think that maybe, just ... maybe, it's not simple friendship?" I finally let it out. Sometimes beating around the bush doesn't help, he needs to hear it loud and clear. I would never ever give up on us, but he needs to understand, like I do, that it's not and it cannot be forever.
He remained silent for a few moments, and I could picture his thoughts spinning in his head as he put two and two together. In the end, he frowned, looking at me. "Is that what that idiot told you?"
The idiot being Brian, my ex – the only ex after the one in high school. I never told my best friend why did we break up. Or rather, I only gave him basic explanations: it didn't work, we weren't made for each other, I didn't even really love him. I never once dared to say the truth: Brian dumped me because he thought there was way more than a "weird" friendship between me and Chris.
I never told him that Brian was always complaining about how his calls often got sent to voicemail because I was on the phone with Chris. I never admitted that my ex hated my best friend. I never told him Brian dumped me because, he claimed, he could read my feelings for Chris on my face every time we were in the same room. Heck, I never even told him that Karen told me clearly that, had I been out of the picture, she would have stayed.
"No," I lied, "but it's really simple."
"Not to me."
I sighed. The only lies I ever told Chris are about Brian and Karen, and about my feelings. He says I'm a terrible liar, he doesn't know how much I practiced. "Our bond," I mentioned, "it's rare. It's something not many people share, especially a man and a woman." I glanced at him, hoping he would read between the lines, but he didn't. "Some people just don't understand what we have."
"Sure as hell they don't." He grumbled. "And that's why those relationships didn't work. They couldn't see what we are to each other," he pointed at us, "they couldn't understand that love comes in different ways."
Sure, rub salt in the wound, keep on friendzoning me. It really helps. I heaved another deep sigh, lowering my head. "They didn't." I agreed. "That's why they thought there was more."
His green eyes widened in surprise. I guess he'd really never thought about it. He remained shocked, probably thinking of all the failed relationships over the years, some longer than others. I really hoped his thoughts wouldn't get to the one girl that's hurt him the most, but it was inevitable: "Karen said the same?" He croaked out, disbelieving.
I didn't reply, not wanting to hurt him. I couldn't remain silent, though, so I averted the subject by overexplaining: "We sleep together a lot, nobody would accept that their partner sleeps with their straight friend, don't you think?"
Unfortunately, he didn't lose focus. "Viv, did Karen leave me because she thought I was cheating on her?"
I sighed. "Chris ..."
"Tell me the truth." He demanded, and I felt really small under his penetrating gaze.
"Yes." I grudgingly admitted. "She thought you and I ..." I closed my eyes, "I'm sorry."
I didn't hear anything from him, not even a single sound, for a bit, but I didn't have the courage to look at him. I knew I involuntarily hurt him, and I wanted to badly to make it better, but I didn't know how. Slowly, after five long minutes of silence, I dared reopen my eyes to look at him. He was still there, standing still, hadn't moved an inch.
I stood up from the couch, and reached for his hand. "Chris ..."
As if on cue, he woke from his reverie, and squeezed my hand. I yelped when he took me off guard by pulling me into him to hug me tightly, embracing my full frame. When he spoke against my ear, I felt shivers down my spine: "If she felt that way, I'm glad we broke up. Someone that doesn't trust me, doesn't deserve my time."
"But ..."
He pulled back, smiling, and caressed my cheek. "I will never give you up, Vivy. And if my girlfriend can't understand that, then she's not worth it."
"Chris ..." I tried, but he silenced me by shaking his head, then pulled me back in for a tight hug.
He placed a wet kiss on my cheek, laughing a bit as he reminded me: "You know I will never drop my Jigglypuff."
I giggled, albeit poking his side a bit as I complained: "I hate that nickname." He started calling me that when we started watching Pokemon – we were 10, more or less. At first, it was because Jigglypuff was my favorite pokemon, then the nickname stuck because, he says, my cheeks get puffy when I'm mad at him, exactly like Jigglypuff, and it makes me cute.
Chris laughed, finally back to his cheerful self. He rocked us back and forth a bit, his arms still around me, and he was serious when he whispered in my ear: "We promised, Vivy. To whatever end." He reminded me.
"Against all odds." I echoed, knowing full well that the past 10 years were only an appetizer compared to the pain that's ahead of me if I don't do something about it. It's either tell him the truth, or try to date someone else. Or just both.