The Best Friend

The thing about new countries is they give you brand new dreams. You hope that things will be different. When I went afar, I was excited to be away from home, from the same old. In with the new. Freedom!

As with every story there is always the boy who was just a dream. I met Al, the cutest guy I have ever seen. But, as luck would have it, he wanted my friend not me. He was willing to use me to get her though. I could say a lot of things about Al but the one thing that would be absolutely true is, he was the kindest guy I have ever had in my life.

He and my friend did not work out but him and I became best friends. He was the guy I would call when I was alone and I wanted company. He would bring breakfast and he would make sure I was okay.

It still hurt though when he told me that even though we were ‘soul mates’ I was not his type. A totally different spin on the meaning of soul mates. Kind of funny. I was hurt. We were friends and I knew that we could not be more but it still hurt when he put it in words. My best friend was my biggest crush then and, the one who hurt me the most.

The one thing I probably learnt then is that, I am not world pretty. I am not the girl who gets the most good looking guy in the room. I am not the first choice when I guy is on the prowl. Oh wait a minute, the prowl thing would totally depend on the hormone levels or a little on the intoxication levels. Laugh laugh!

I also learnt that I am not ugly (had some issues) because I had quite the fun following. But still I could not get everything I wanted and that was maddening and hurtful.

I guess in a way the realization that I could not have all I wanted, made me withdraw. I became harder to get. I felt safer. I became a watcher, an observer of the rituals rather than a participant.

My best friend remained that. In time I realized that I had become influential in his life. I could get anything I wanted out of him and in his eyes I could do no wrong. I slept on the same bed with him on plenty of nights. We would talk until we felt sleepy then, we would each turn to our side and sleep. I still don’t believe it myself sometimes.

I have been asked many a times, did we do anything. My answer has been totally honest, never. We were friends and absolutely platonic. But, once as I slept I felt him touch me and I turned to tell him to move. When he opened his eyes and said yes, I saw desire in his eyes. I turned away. “go to sleep,” I told him. I was so scared that he would touch me again. I knew that if he did, I would fall. I would fall! He did not touch me again.

We never spoke about it and our lives continued as if nothing happened.

He remains one of the best friends I have ever had.