Have you ever rushed away from someone, just waiting for them to run after you, catch your arm, spin you around and when your eyes connect there will be this explosive catharsis and you will both just know and there will be music and your lips will connect so softly or in a crash of emotion and you'll finally feel grounded and real again?
I obviously watch too many movies. Though I admit I would not be upset by the drama of such an event.
That's never going to happen in reality. In reality you don't actually storm off, that requires a certain amount of adrenaline that your body simply cannot maintain. That shot of anxiety and your weak response in fleeing only carries you so far, maybe down the block, maybe around a corner and then you're done for. Your body starts to shut down, you feel like you've just run a marathon and want to collapse right in the street but you can't breathe, suffocated by everyone around you. Your eyes burn from unshed tears, there's a constriction in your chest causing you to take slow deep breaths to remain calm. Somehow your legs manage to carry you home and as soon as the door clicks shut, you're done for.
I collapsed back against the door, slamming my eyes shut to concentrate on anything but this inexplicable pain but that just gave way to the flood I managed to hold back. Sinking down to the floor I try to drain myself of any feeling at all. That would hurt less. I would greatly prefer that. Worst yet, I don't really have any actual reason to be crying. Thinking about it, I cannot explain why tears stream down my face as often as they did, that woman just had this effect on me. It was like whenever she was in arms length she would just reach out and mercilessly grip something inside me and I had no choice but to take it. Sometimes I wonder if that's what I really live for.
I can't remember how long I sat there. The tears didn't last as long as I thought they would, they have long since dried on my face making me feel weak and tired. Eventually I realized that I could not spend the entire night huddled up in the foyer of my apartment. Somehow I managed to pull myself up and carry myself to the couch, laying myself down and pulling a blanket over me. Why did I keep doing this to myself? Why can't I just grow up and tell her how I feel about her? I roll over and grip a pillow for dear life. That would just be far too easy.
If only I could sleep. Whenever I open my eyes and the sun from a new morning is bursting though my window I feel like everything bad from the day before has been washed away and I can start new. But no, not tonight, because I know that I'm going to lay here and replay me walking away from her over and over in my mind.
Reaching for my phone, I type out a quick text and send it out to my savior. This has sadly become far too great of a habit, my tearing my heart out and needing someone to listen to me and shove it back in. I really need to repay him in a grand way someday. He's never turned me down when I need him and there are few things I am as grateful for as that.
After about thirty minutes of me staring at my ceiling I hear my front door open and his heavy footsteps on the hard wood. A large brown bag full of, undoubtedly, Chinese take-out is placed on the coffee table before me and my legs are lifted so he can sit on the couch where they were before draping them over his lap.
"So what happened this time my little Jewish mama?" Noah has changed so much since high school but also not at all. Thankfully, he's stopped trying to be the resident badass and is much more open about his concern for the well being of those he cares about. He ditched the Mohawk and keeps his head shaven making him look much more grown up and mature than he ever had.
"Quinn thinks I slept with her boyfriend before," I look in his general direction but not directly at him, I focus on the hand he's laid across leg.
"Didn't you correct her?" he raises his eyebrow at me and leans forward to get some food out.
"I…I couldn't. She wanted to know why I don't seem to like them together, what bothers me so much about that relationship. What was I supposed to fucking say? 'Actually I hate anyone you have, do, or will date because I love you and want to be with you,'? That would have ended pretty well."
"Well what did you do?"
"I walked away"
"I'm sure that was much better. Why can't you just talk to her?"
"There's nothing to talk to her about. Nothing I have to say is valid in the way of friendship." The truth was I physically cannot talk to her. Not about anything involving the two of us, especially not about how I feel about her. I get all clammy and freeze up and anything I actually say comes out as a jumbled mess compared to what I actually wanted to say.
I remember once when we had a movie night at my place and she was concerned she was drinking too much to make it home and without even thinking I just blurted out, "That's alright sweetheart I'd love to have you in my bed." My heart may have literally stopped as soon as that made it all the way out of my mouth. She just laughed it off, me obviously joking but my ability to flirt and play with her like everyone else was dampened significantly by my burning attraction for her. As if by me saying such things, she would just know. I'm such a damn mess.
Noah looked at me and handed me a container of fried rice. "I just hate seeing you like this. I know she's your best friend but you need to find a way to be around her without hating yourself or her."
"I don't know if that is ever going to happen" I joked.
He laughed a little as well, "I guess you're lucky I like take-out then." I smiled at him and he squeezed my knee gently. Yeah, I owed him big time.
It was around two in the morning when there was a knock at my door. Noah and I looked at one another questioningly. Without even asking Noah got up and went to the door. He came back a moment later and retrieved his coat from the back of the armchair. "Good luck. And remember she does love you, don't be afraid of her." Walking around the back of the couch he kissed the top of my head and went back to the door. Sitting up I pushed my face into my hands. Why did I have to deal with this now? Couldn't we just go a few days not speaking and then pretend nothing happened? Isn't that was normal people do?
There was a soft exchange in the foyer, followed by the click of her heels treading lightly as she made her way towards me in the living room. "Hi" she spoke out softly, unsure. I still my head in my hands and forced myself to look at her finally. She was standing behind the armchair, gripping the back lightly. Her eyes were downcast but I could tell they were red-rimmed, she had been crying, I had upset her and that just made me feel worse. "What are you doing here Q?" I wasn't harsh, oh how I wish I could be. How I wish I could just tear this girl down with my words and pretend I didn't care about her nearly as much as I did. I never could be though, I was always just, defeated.
"I couldn't sleep. I was going to come see you tomorrow morning but I couldn't. What…what the hell happened earlier?" That worried look her had before I took off a few hours ago still lingered in her eyes, just now amplified by about ten times.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have just taken off like that. I just didn't know what to say."
"If my relationship with him makes you uncomfortable tell me and I'll break up with him" Is this really happening? Why is she saying this? "I don't want anything to come between our friendship, especially not your feeling for him." Oh son of a bitch.
I start piling all of what's left on the table of the take-out together and gather it in my arms, heading for the kitchen. "I don't have feelings for him," I breeze out quickly as I walk past her.
"Then what the fuck is going on with you?" she strains out. She's obviously frustrated and confused and doesn't know what else to do. I drop what's in my arms onto the counter and swipe the empty containers into the sink. "Just forget about it, Quinn." My hands grip the counter needing something to balance me. Shit, if I don't get her out of here soon the water works are going to start again.
Her heels click towards me and she's in the doorway eyeing me. I can just feel her eyes on me. "What's going on with you that you can't tell me about?" Damnit, just the hurt in her voice makes me feel like I kicked a puppy.
"It's just something I need to deal with on my own." She's walking towards me and I just keep my eyes trained on the counter, until her hand reaches over and grabs both of mine and forces my body to face her.
"I wish you knew that you could tell me anything." She's probably searching for my eyes but she won't catch them. They're trained on our joined hands, her thumbs rubbing my knuckles lightly. It's obvious she doesn't know what she doesn't to me or this sort of contact wouldn't be as common. She wouldn't want to hurt me more than my unrequited love already does by teasing but it's the only thing that really brings me comfort.
"Not this. Just…please don't push this anymore." And she won't. Because I asked and because she's not that wonderful about talking though things anyway, not very serious things. It will take a near breaking point before a real discussion takes place and sometimes I hate that and sometimes that's just fine. Right now I'm fine with that because I know after tonight this will be forgotten and we will be okay again without having to have it out completely.
Her arms snake around my back and she pulls my body against hers. Gripping her shoulders with everything I have I pull her against me as well and bury my face in her neck. God, this woman is so intoxicating. Lips graze near my right eye and she places a gentle kiss on my head. My face buries into her hair to escape. This woman is trying to destroy me.
I can't lose this with her. I can't lose the intimacy I have at the prospect of a little bit more. I can learn to live with what few bones she throws me. As long as I can feel her like this – our bodies smashed together, holding on like we don't know when we'll see each other again – I might just be okay.