she sits with her back straight, sipping her coffee with those blossom red lips and glancing furtively at the window from under her glasses.
she says she has a confession to make. she says he’s asked her to go out some time ago. she says she was caught by surprise. she says he’s the last person on earth she would consider as a date. yet he’d asked her out and she wants to make sure with me that it is ok before she goes on. the man who asked her out is my crush you see.
she insists it was all a surprise to her, a new thing she d’never really dwelled on. she tells me he’d been calling her lately and she never thought…but he is a good man. and handsome. and smart. and single. and looking for a serious relationship.
can’t say it is a surprize to me. i have been waiting for the other shoe to drop for some time now. the time she let him slid his arm across her shoulders, the way he sat next to her through all these months, the way she has been trying to be in touch with all his friends, carefully creating the caring persona, the great catch that is soo good to pass up, the invisible net that women are so crafty at making. (except me, and yes, it is the scorn writting now).
she straightens her back, looking impossibly beautiful, making me wonder how i could fit my abundand meat in such a compact little frame. she smokes her cigarette with quick puffs, relieved that they allow smoking in this dinghy place.
what is there to say? am i ok with it? no. it hurts? yes. how much? i do not know. logic tells me that it was going to happen one day, that my crush has been running circles on me all these years, noticing my sister, my cousin, my friends, and smoothly rebuffing my ackward advances as well as he can. intuition foretold this last year. so, why does it still hurt? who knows.
i try to separate wounded ego from feeling. i try to imagine again how would it be to morph into this beautiful concentrated figure in front of me with small perky breasts and a bubble butt. i try to pretend i am not even there and my heart is not once more traveling in my throat.
what if i am not ok with it? it certainly would not stop the telling 30 years from now of a wonderful love story of two friends who become more to their grandchildren. i’d probabbly be mentioned in sorrow, the ego booster who had no chance. there is nothing for me to do but be graceful.
i say yes. i know how hard it is to find a good man nowadays, especially one who has all the makings of a perfect husband. there will be roses at work for my friend, brown puppy eyes and midnight msn flirtings. there will be proper in-law greetings, white linen shirts and going around the table to shake hands with wedding guests. can not deny that to my friends now can i? soul mates will have to wait for another lifetime.
i get a hug from my friend, who is going out with my obsession of seven years. i am expected to be a good friend and hang out sometime and enjoy the night, and smile and crack wise comments without bitterness or jealousy. i probabbly will too. see, i want to be free as well.
we walk, my friend and i, our little melodrama happily trailing behind with our shopping bags. she is probbably composing wedding invitation, i am carefully filling my brain with Time Square lights and sounds. it is a beautiful night out.