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Our silent communication bounced off the walls of our church. Blinks, chuckles, and subtle hand gestures are the only words in our vocabulary. Only we know what they mean. Only I know my true feelings for him. My heart reaches for him, but, no matter how close we are, it cannot reach.
He makes a joke about the clothes the lady next to him is wearing. I wish I could scream, and drop to the floor with laughter, but only a sly smile crosses my face. Then I quickly get serious again. This is church, after all.
The lady is wearing a brightly colored blouse with khaki trousers. The colors clash so much, she looks like a circus clown. To top it all off, she war a large, floppy hat with a large peacock feather sticking straight up the top.
I wish I could tell him how I feel. I wish we were together, I wish I could hold him in my arms all the way through the darkest nights. I simply want him for myself. But I know it is impossible. I have a nil chance in being a part of his romantic life.
I have known him since we were in the church's nursery together. We have both had our on-and-off puppy loves for each other, but my on-going crush has lasted since my freshman year. He is the brother I never had. He is my best guy friend. If we were older, he would the person I would go to the bars with, the person who would laugh with me when we got drunk. He is my best friend.
Love doesn't even begin to describe my feelings for him. The passion inside of my heart is an ever-burning flame, but one that is kept under control. It has never spread. It has never infected him. He has never felt the same towards me.
I have made a pledge to myself, the same damn pledge, or New Year's Resolution, over and over again. That I will tell him that month, or the next, and the next, and so on. That long pledged pledge has never been fulfilled; maybe, possibly, today it will.
After the service...
I take a deep breath and walk up to him, resisting the reflex to run and cry in a dark corner.
"May I talk to you?" I say, my voice shaky.
"Sure. What's up?". His lisp sounds better and better everyday.
"I'd rather do this in private." I say shyly. I lead him to our corner, a small bench wedged between two walls, doors on either side. One door leads to the men's room, the other to the ladies'. We sit, my heart beating so fast and hard, I'm afraid it will rip out of my chest and become a hummingbird.
"I like you. A lot." My eyes feel like the size of dinner plates.
"I'm glad you can finally admit it.". He says, then looks me straight in the eye. "I do too."