This issue seems to come up in high school all the time. There isn't a day when a friend won't...
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Midsummer Night's Dreams
July had rolled in. My summer days seemed to comprise of me doing packets and packets of summer work, hanging out and talking with buddies, going here and there with family, and doing just nothing. Three and a half weeks had passed. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t messaged. He hadn’t even chatted me. I would walk through town, spending time with my friends or hanging with family, but it seemed I was distancing away. I couldn’t help myself but try to find him. Where was he? Is something trying to pull us apart? Then there were times when I felt selfish. He has a life too. He has a family too. He has his guy friends too. Then I started to wonder, was he waiting for me to call him? I had said I would call him during the summer and that we would chat about stuff. But I hadn’t called him at all. For the two times, he was the one who called me or messaged me. I had absolutely no idea of what to do.
It became worse every night. Every night, the same conversations that we had had, replayed in my mind. I couldn’t dream anymore because I couldn’t stop thinking about what he had said a few months ago.
It had all started because we were playing a pathetic yet fun little game of “would you rather.” But “would you rather” turned into some game where we started spilling our secrets. Where I ended up blurting out every little bit, every little thing I felt for him. And that’s when it was all revealed. After that he knew that I had started admiring him. After that he told me how he was falling for me but he had given up on me. And that was when it felt like the walls beside me were crumbling down on me. My heart raced faster and faster. Why hadn’t I noticed? Why hadn’t he ever told me? We had always promised to tell each other if anything was bothering us, if we had anything we needed to release. And of all the things we had told each other, he couldn’t manage to tell me that? Where was this all coming from? But just as this was all said and done with, it was also over just then. Somehow, for some reason, confusion and doubt overbore us. He told me how confused he was, he told me he needed some time to figure out and choose. Choose what? Choose between me and someone else? Choose between friendship or infatuation? I became enraged. I was hurt, just at that simple statement. Then and there, I told him with a happy tone in my voice, “Let’s just go back to being good friends. I miss having you tell me who your latest fling is.” And he said, “ok.” Ok. One word. Two letters. Ok. It ended everything. It brought us to a closure, and yet it didn’t.
After a few weeks, we finally go over being all awkward, I had tried my best to make sure we were back to being as we were. Finally after weeks he and I were back to being the way we used to be. We laughed again, shared hilarious jokes about every little fruit, we shared stories, we talked about our day. And this brings me back to the time when he asked me: “Do you like anyone?” I remained silent. I didn’t know how to respond. That one little question, brought back memories of all the good times we’ve had. But that one little question seemed to bring back old feelings that I had tried to convince myself had disappeared. But they never had. They were always there. I guess with the sense of the silence he quickly added, “you don’t have to tell me if you feel uncomfortable about it.” That made me feel better. So I merely told him that I was “unsure” and that I wanted to be “sure” about how I felt. I didn’t name names, I didn’t give the assurance of me liking anyone. But that one tiny question did one thing very well. I was overwhelmed by his question. He likes me, I thought to myself. But how could he? Especially after last time. Then again, last time, we hadn’t really come to a conclusion. It just…ended. The nighttime killed me. When I closed my eyes I ended up reliving each moment we spent together. I realized how beautiful we are together. Even just as good friends. But even just as good friends, I could see that how we walked when we were together had a special closeness to it. I could see the extra twinkles in his eyes. And I could feel my heart beating excessively. But overall I could hear the tones in our voices, and the laughing, oh so much laughing.
At that point, I was convinced he liked me. But was I? I kept spilling my heartfelt emotions to my friends, and they analyzed each detail I shared with them. They had come to conclude that he liked me too. Well, they had concluded from the apparent “symptoms”.