I don’t like my friend.
I don’t like my friend.
I don’t like me friend.
Dam it, I do like my friend. I think?
But friends are friends! A friendship and a relationship are two different things. Friendships are not supposed to be more than that! Especially when they’ve been your friend since you were 11 years old and 18 years later you’re both 29 and living on opposite sides of the world.
I don’t know what it was, or when it was but somewhere within the four days we spent together I was seeing him through different eyes. Was it that we get along so well, that we have been friends for ever, that we both know each others families enough to FaceTime when in each other presence or is it purely just because the clocks ticking and we’re both still single? I don’t know what it was, but all of a sudden I found myself having to force the smile to not grow on my face at all the ‘we’ references, giggling at his dancing and singing down the high street, re-looking at the photos of the two of us and wondering if it could be me/him/us who may be able to change his and our perceptions about the opposite sex.
It’s really not that fun when you start to see a friend through new eyes. Well actually, It’s momentarily fun simply because of your friendship based nature; fun, easygoing, comfortable, but then reality hits and it’s awful. Time to take off the new glasses you’ve been looking through and see clearly; you’re friends, he’ll only ever see you as a friend, get over it – he doesn’t like you, never will.
Or would he?
The Runner made multiple comments about how baffling it was to him that I was single, that he didn’t understand why guys weren’t lining up to date me and how I was the most beautiful girl in London. My list of attributes and qualities – shallow and serious – were listed over and over by The Runner. While I blushed, I also weirded myself out at the fact that the thought running through my mind was: “well why don’t you date me then?!”
We went on the best ‘friend’ dates, had cocktails, wines, partied the nights away, went sightseeing, laughed, smiled, danced, reminisced and simply enjoyed each others company. Saying goodbye was harder than I ever would’ve thought; I truly think we were both genuinely sad. Our mutual text messages of a solo sad face back up my hazy, confused mind.
Fittingly for my blog, he lives down under, so as for when I see him next, for when I work out if it was a fleeting four days of mental madness – well, your guess is as good as mine.
So for now I push it to the back of my mind, remind myself of our 11 year old selves and re-ingrain in my cold heart and love-pessimistic mind that feelings are gross. And so are boys.
distanced hearts club ♥