She seemed so out of reach, but her body was right next to mine. She was near me like always, thighs touching as we drank our soda and watched TV like guys did together on Sundays. The blasting sound of football chatter penetrated the silence, leaving no room for distraction.

Was it wrong for me to want to run my fingers through her blond strands, so soft and straight? Maybe it was, but I didn’t care what anyone else would have thought of the action except for her. Would she just take it as a friendly gesture or something else, something I was aching to have? I reach over and my hands play with her hair. She just turns and smiles at me, freckles marring the bridge of her nose. I could hear the rain splattering against the window, glass sprayed with droplets. She turns back to the TV, shouting as her team missed the ball.

She curses and waves her arm, upset and angry but I just can’t help but smile. She seems so cute when she’s mad, I ruffle her hair and tell her to sit down. She pouts before pink lips curl into a smirk and begins to prank call people. She loves being a trickster and pranking those she loves and hates. Then the moment is ruined as her cell rings. It’s her boyfriend again, wasting her time with the frequent “checkups,” I swear the dude was a control freak. I went to the fridge and grabbed a beer and chugged it down before heading for the vodka. Why was it that I was so frustrated when I knew nothing could ever happen between us?

She had a boyfriend and I’m didn't. End of story.

She’s straight and I’m not. End of story.


But I didn’t want that to be the end, so I kept my feelings to myself even though I just want to grab her and kiss her on the lips, hoping they were as soft as they looked. I wanted to confess my bottled up emotions of 2 years to her and wished that she would realize what she felt for me. Of course it wouldn’t be love but at least some attraction would be nice. I could at least deal with that. One night would be all I need to get everything out.


But she was out of reach as always, no matter how much she claimed that she would always be right beside me. But as a friend or maybe a sister. Da** that word made me cringe when it came to her. I want a lover not a da** sister! I have 3 of them already, I didn’t need anymore.


I could see her playing with her hair in the distance and I imagined the space between us growing larger. The fact that we were only a hallway away, me being in the kitchen gulping down alcohol without her knowledge as she spoke on the phone, her in the living room with the pizza, soda and a losing football team on screen.


I felt sick. Not from the drink burning my throat but from myself. I had no guts, I was fearful she wouldn’t want to be friends if I confessed. What a wuss I was. I made my way back and sat next to her, face slightly flushed from the large amount of drinks consumed. And you know what made it worse? I wanted more. I needed more to forget the fact she was in a relationship, happy and giddy about her loser boyfriend as always. But I knew if I had drowned myself in liquor, all I would be able to see is green eyes. Her shimmering emerald green orbs that lit up like fireworks when her team made a touchdown.


I smiled at her and leaned against the couch. She had hanged up and now I could go back to pretending it was just me and her in this world. And I could go back to pretending she was my girl and that she knew I loved her even if I knew she didn’t. But right now, reality didn’t matter, it would catch up later. But it could and would wait until she left my side again to be in the arms of her actual lover. That stupid f***er didn’t deserve her. But knowing me, I didn’t deserve her either.