A Painful Regret

      

Tenth grade, 2009

As I sat there in Chemistry class, I stared at the girl next to me. She was my so called “best friend.” I stared at her hair; the color of old gold sweeping back from her face like a bird’s wings. She was always gentle when she could manage it. She was tall, slim and stately. She had cinnamon-brown warm eyes with heavy lashes. I wished she was mine. But she didn’t notice me like that and I knew it.

After class, she walked at me and asked me for the notes she had missed the day before and handed them to her. She said thanks and gave me a kiss on the check. As I watched her walk away from me, I wished I could tell her that I want her to know  that I don’t want to be just a friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

Eleventh grade, 2010

It had been raining for more than a week, so much rain it made everyday seemed so restless and gloomy. I sat at my table finishing my homework suddenly the phone rang. On the other end, it was her. She was in tears, mumbling on and on about her love had broken her heart. She asked me to come over because she didn’t want to be alone, so I did.

Maybe it was the rain, all the trains were full of people with umbrellas and suit cases who were eager to get home, not caring about who just passed by. I hurried and get into the train. My feelings and thought are full with love and compassion for her. But it just so hard to express it and I feel like a heavy burden deep in my chest. Only times can know when it’s going to explode.

As I arrived at her house, she stood in front of me with eyes brimming with tears. I hugged her to calm her and whisper to her ears, “It’s okay. I’m here.” As I sat next to her on the sofa, I stared at her soft eyes, wishing she was mine. After two hours, one Stephen Spielberg movie, and three bags of chips and sodas, she decided to go to sleep.

She looked at me, said “thanks” and gave me a peck on my cheek. My heart crave; I want to tell her, I want her to know that I don’t want to be just a friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

Senior year, 2011

The day before a prom, she walked to my locker. “My date is sick,” she said; he’s not going to go well, I didn’t have a date, and in form one, we made a promise that if neither  of us had dates, we would go together just as “ best friends.” So we did.

At prom night, I picked her at her house. I could not take my eyes of her as she was drop dead gorgeous.  She’d dressed in the most exquisite and sophisticated dress - deep blue, frilly and off the shoulders. With her slender and stately body, that dress fitted her very well. Her dark golden hair cascaded down her back in waves.  Her smile made my heart melt and I just wished and wished that I could be brave enough to confess my love to her. But I had no guts to tell her. We went to the prom together.

After everything was over, I was standing at the front gate of our school waiting for her to send her back to her house. We took a taxi instead of train as the rain was very heavy tonight. At her door step, I stood and stared at her as she smiled at me and stared at me with her crystal eyes. I want her to be mine, but she isn’t think of me like that, and I know it. Then she said, “I had the best time, thanks!” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. I want to tell her, I want to know that I don’t want to be just a friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

Graduation Day

Few days passed, then few weeks passed, then few months, and then few years had passed. All I had planned to excel in prep school as student and at sports, and I did. After college and completed my International Bacchelaraute program, I had planned to go to Harvard Law, and I did. I had planned to become a prosecutor and then enter politics, and now I am. But until now there is always one thing I never succeeded yet, I never confess my love to her. Though I have everything that any man wanted, a fortunate man, gifted with genetics that, with no effort on my part, had given me intelligence, a level of disposition, and a face on which every feature was pronounced-strong cheekbones, ridged nose, cleft chin-plus cool blue eyes to make it one that people remembered and television flattered. To my natural height and athleticism I added fitness, enforced by a daily regime of weights and aerobic exercise. Still, I’ve got no guts to confront her and confess my love to her.

      

That morning, upon reaching my clean and sparely decorated law office, I flipped my desk calendar, looking past the orderly notations of the lawyer and would-be politician – the hearings, depositions,  and trial dates of a practice that commingled civil law with criminal defense; the lunches, evening speeches, and meetings of civic groups that marked the progress of a Democratic congressman-in-waiting – and lit on a graduation date. Her graduation date and it is today. I hurried grabbed my keys and headed to my brand new Rolls Royce.

 I watched her perfect body floated like an angel up on a stage to get her degree. I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t notice me like that, and I knew it. Before everyone went home, she came to me in her smock and hat, and cried as I hugged her. Then she lifted her head from my shoulder and said, “You’re my best friend, thanks,” and gave me a kiss on the cheek. . I want to tell her, I want to know that I don’t want to be just a friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

A year had passed

Now I sit in the pews of the church. That girl is getting married now. The music was louder in the hall. It floated up to the stairs along with the fragrance of a million flowers. There she was walking through the audiences towards the groom. Her skin was cream and roses, her eyes were huge with excitement and framed with thick lashes. The narrow sheath of the shimmering white dress flared out with subtly at the train almost like an inverted calla lily, cut skillfully that her body looked elegant and graceful. She was beautiful. I could not take my eyes of her. She was so perfect.

I watched her say, “I do” and drive off to her new life, married to another man. That man supposed to be me. But it was too late, she’s already belong to somebody else. My heart craves; I wanted her to be mine, but she didn’t see me like that, and I knew it. But before she drove away, she came to me and said, “You came!” She said “thanks” and kissed me on the cheeks. . I want to tell her, I want to know that I don’t want to be just a friends, I love her but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why.

Funeral

Years had passed, I looked down at the coffin of a girl who used to be my “best friend” and my long unrequited love. At the service, they read a diary entry she had wrote in her high school years. This is what it read:

I stare at him wishing he was mine, but he didn’t notice me like that, and I know it. I want to tell him, I want him to know that I don’t want to be just friends, I love him but I’m just too shy, and I don’t know why. I wish he would tell me he loved me!

I wish I did too…I thought of myself and I cried with full of regretfully.