(no subject)
If you and I were friends, I would tell you that he's an asshole.
But he's one of my closest friends and you and I just met, so I keep this little truth to myself.
Most of the time, as I guess you well know, he's sweet and super thoughtful. He'll pull out chairs for you, make you mix CDs, just because. And he's so much fun to be around for no apparent reason! He'll list off jokes in rapid succession and then be so pleased and so amused with himself that you can't help but feel giddy from laughing alongside him.
But he's a bad boyfriend. (That's why he was never one of mine).
---
You see, our history - his and mine - goes back a little ways, nearing almost a decade now.
Things with us were never romantic, exactly. I guess I figured out pretty quickly that he was an even better juggler than I was (at the time), and maybe it was due to this mutual understanding that we kept things platonic. He was my drinking companion, my concert buddy, my late night partner in crime for all things stupid but fun.
But there was the occasional night - not too many, but a handful - when we decided it would be a good idea to continue drinking with less clothes on.
We never talked about those nights afterwards. They never meant anything enough to be worthy of a discussion. We were friends, just friends, and this was just another inside joke that we kept from the rest of the world.
---
But if you and I were friends, I would tell you that he's cheated on you with me.
I didn't even know that you existed, at the time. In fact, I *just* put this all together about five minutes ago when you went to the bathroom and I asked him how long you guys have been together. When he told me, I mentally counted back the months to the last time he'd pressed his lips to mine early last summer and,... Shit.
The process of realization must have been pretty transparent on my face because when I bit my lip and looked up into his eyes, scowling, he shrugged sheepishly and looked away.
I never wanted to be party to his philandering, I'd really had no idea. But that doesn't make me feel any better, because here you are now sitting next to me and we're actually having a pleasant conversation.
Later, the two of you are going to drive home together and you're probably going to tell him how much you liked me (All his girlfriends do). And you're going to secretly feel relieved to have met ONE female friend of his that you don't have to torture yourself wondering if he'd slept with - because there's no way, you figure.
---
I've been in your shoes too. I wish you didn't have to wear them because those shoes hurt the most and leave the biggest scars, I don't envy you one bit. And I wish I could do something to make it better, I wish we girls could all keep our hands to ourselves and not hurt each other like this.
But like I said, I didn't know. And I watch him looking at your adoringly, it's the happiest I've seen him in a while. So I keep my mouth closed and hope that you don't find out. About me, or all the others.
And I hope he's good to you and that you're good to him. Because as much of an asshole as he is, he's a great guy and one of my best friends. And it's so good to see him smile.
But he's one of my closest friends and you and I just met, so I keep this little truth to myself.
Most of the time, as I guess you well know, he's sweet and super thoughtful. He'll pull out chairs for you, make you mix CDs, just because. And he's so much fun to be around for no apparent reason! He'll list off jokes in rapid succession and then be so pleased and so amused with himself that you can't help but feel giddy from laughing alongside him.
But he's a bad boyfriend. (That's why he was never one of mine).
---
You see, our history - his and mine - goes back a little ways, nearing almost a decade now.
Things with us were never romantic, exactly. I guess I figured out pretty quickly that he was an even better juggler than I was (at the time), and maybe it was due to this mutual understanding that we kept things platonic. He was my drinking companion, my concert buddy, my late night partner in crime for all things stupid but fun.
But there was the occasional night - not too many, but a handful - when we decided it would be a good idea to continue drinking with less clothes on.
We never talked about those nights afterwards. They never meant anything enough to be worthy of a discussion. We were friends, just friends, and this was just another inside joke that we kept from the rest of the world.
---
But if you and I were friends, I would tell you that he's cheated on you with me.
I didn't even know that you existed, at the time. In fact, I *just* put this all together about five minutes ago when you went to the bathroom and I asked him how long you guys have been together. When he told me, I mentally counted back the months to the last time he'd pressed his lips to mine early last summer and,... Shit.
The process of realization must have been pretty transparent on my face because when I bit my lip and looked up into his eyes, scowling, he shrugged sheepishly and looked away.
I never wanted to be party to his philandering, I'd really had no idea. But that doesn't make me feel any better, because here you are now sitting next to me and we're actually having a pleasant conversation.
Later, the two of you are going to drive home together and you're probably going to tell him how much you liked me (All his girlfriends do). And you're going to secretly feel relieved to have met ONE female friend of his that you don't have to torture yourself wondering if he'd slept with - because there's no way, you figure.
---
I've been in your shoes too. I wish you didn't have to wear them because those shoes hurt the most and leave the biggest scars, I don't envy you one bit. And I wish I could do something to make it better, I wish we girls could all keep our hands to ourselves and not hurt each other like this.
But like I said, I didn't know. And I watch him looking at your adoringly, it's the happiest I've seen him in a while. So I keep my mouth closed and hope that you don't find out. About me, or all the others.
And I hope he's good to you and that you're good to him. Because as much of an asshole as he is, he's a great guy and one of my best friends. And it's so good to see him smile.