Holding Hands
Yes, I know. I'm probably a fucked up person. I've never been in a relationship before, and as much as I'd like to, I'm always fucking it up right away. Besides, there aren't many people I'm interested in.
But, still, everytime he takes my hand my breath stands still.
Gosh, 'he'? Are you gay or something? You might say. But no, actually… like I've said, it's only about him, I don't care about other guys, though.
Don't care much anyway.
He's my best friend, I've known him since, like, forever. Don't know when it began, though. It makes the issue all the more embarrassing for me. I'll never tell him, I'm sure.
It was a usual evening for the four friends (more or less) of us. You know, Stan, me, Cartman and Kenny. We went to a huge themepark after having drunk a bit of alcohol to make the experience a bit more amazing. In fact, me and Kenny drank the most, I probably even more. Why? Well.
Stan was whining a bit about Wendy, always looking at his phone, making me furious. I fell silent when he began talking about her, thankful enough that Kenny was interested in this puny topic. I mean, yeah, girls, that's Kenny's speciality, he just knows them. And I simply took that bottle and swallowed.
I remember Kenny nudging at me once and shouting "Hah, getting wasted?". Interestingly enough, Cartman didn't pick on me. And didn't drink. Whatever.
Still, I don't want you to think it was a depressing drinking round, in fact all of us were pretty cheery after having finished our annoying high school exams and laughed and talked a lot. That thing with Wendy, however, immersed everything in a tad bit depressing atmosphere for me.
The themepark was crowded, very much so. We actually had to hold hands in order to not lose each other. Cartman laughed "Wow you fags. This must look so very gay." It probably did. But the way mine and Stan's finger were entwined… was indescribable. Stan smiled at me. "People must think we are a queer foursome, dude." I smiled back at him. "Sick, dude."
When we reached an attraction we wanted to use we waited in line. Everything was so crowded. Shortly before our wagons arrived, Cartman called out to me about how he can't close up his pockets, and asking me to hold onto his stuff. I was about to answer when Stan suddenly grabbed my hand, leading me to the wagon. "Kyle. It's here." Carefully, he led me to our seats. I felt like a princess, being guided firmly. It was simply beautiful. I didn't realize anything else about this situation apart from our hands. I've barely heard Cartman saying "fags" and Kenny giggling. I didn't care.
Well. Stan didn't care as well. Because he didn't understand… at all. To him, it was probably nothing worthy, it was perfectly natural, something best friends would do.
After the ride, he even pulled out his shitty phone looking for a call from Wendy. Bet my jewish soul on that one.
The Ferris wheel was fun, too. We were actually really scared, I've never been on one, so I didn't know it's that scary. You're very high in the air, and the doors are not closed, actually there are simple fences on the sides, you could easily fall off or jump down.
I sat next to Stan and opposite of us Cartman and Kenny. All of us cuddeled closely together, afraid of moving. Yeah, sounds stupid, but it was really terrible. So I grabbed Stans arm tightly, he was afraid too and held me close to himself, as well. We just stayed that way for minutes. Cartman didn't say shit, since he and Kenny were hunched together, as well. It was amazing, actually.
Being close to this wonderful, wonderful person makes me very glad but also very bitter. But as long as he will hold this dirty hand of mine, I'm okay.
I could never be with him, that I know. Again, I'll never tell him. But I'll stay here, waiting for a miracle.