The Space Between Us
I am sitting in the front left-corner of the room. Alone.
The board’s free from any writings. The cool air is conditioned now. Not too cold. The chairs are well decided at the moment. Except for some minutes ago where two chairs were arranged in front of each other far in the corner back, arranged in a way some best buds sat there as they exchanged their very own conversation and maybe shared food and laughter, and the warden possibly forgot or missed these two to be set in proper place. Or I don’t know.
My notebook is already sitting on my desk. And my pen, too. Just the very normal things to observe in a very normal day in school in a very sunny and gay morning.
Just waiting for my blockmates to burst inside the room and scatter to their very own places. The normal stuffs.
Seven minutes before seven and they will all be here.
And our prof will be arriving at exactly 0710.
Six minutes and counting…
I scan the room as I tap my fingers on my lap, and my eyes land on your chair.
And before I know it I think of you. I am thinking of you.
I ponder the way you come across the aisle of the room, and finding your sit. The way you scramble your bag beside you. And talk things to the ones near you, like how is the project going or are they going to join an org or did they finally realize it’s time to break some stress and have a student-day-off this weekend, and as you chat with them you’ll catch me staring at you. You stare back and show off your admirable grin. I am caught up in your smile.
I think about how you can make me laugh even when you are trying to sound serious. How you joke around and do silly things which make them crack up, including me. How you choose different kinds to eat everyday saying we just have a short life, and that we need to taste every single dish out there, before it’s too late to savor. How in sports you love watching baseball but in terms of playing, you pick basketball instead. How you try your best shot to answer a prof’s question when nobody else is raising their hand. How you bite the other end of your pen, as an absentmindedly habit.
I think about the way you open up doors for girls, not for being cool to them but as just a gentleman, just you acting the way boys are supposed to be. The way you handle things even if you too are in very much pressure. The way you would say it’s gonna be alright when obviously, it won’t. The way you agree and disagree. The way you stand on your beliefs and consider others’ points. The way you get into an argument and get mad, and stay quiet for a while, and maybe go out the room. The way you make mistakes and deal with them.
I think of you as you being just you. You being your simple you but in my eyes I see you as an amazing you. You just don’t care what others might think as long as you know you are not stepping on anyone’s dignity then you are fine with it. Because that is just the way you are. And sometimes, at the end of the day, you will feel guilty about something, but you will not regret.
I think of your smile on me. Your eyes staring deep within mine like you can just see right through me. The manner you hold my hand and say don’t be afraid. The manner you are making me feel all so free and limitless. The manner you make me blush. And how you argue with me but never leaves. You stay. You stay though it is hard and painful. You stay because it is still worth it. You stay because you love me. You love me for me.
But it’s not going to happen.
It will never happen.
And there they are, swarming around the room. It is officially seven in the morning. And this is me already sitting on my desired place. This is me sitting ten minutes earlier than the rest. And this is me waiting for him to come inside the room and take his seat.
And he is here. He walks all the way to his sit and puts his bag beside him and talks to his seatmates and he catches me staring and he smiles at me. I smile back. And that is all there is I am happy about.
I know him well. And he will never know me well.
And no matter how I try to say my feelings for him, the truth never comes out. I am tongue-tied, mesmerized by just him. I am speechless.
The way he is holding my hand and saying to not be afraid, the way he argues with me but will never leave me, and the way he loves me for me? They will not happen, ever.
Because I can’t say it. I just can’t. For I know a girl he truly loves, the girl he is waiting for almost his whole life, the girl he carved deep within his heart, the girl he deserves and all the best.
So I can’t.
We’re friends. And that is all there is I am happy about.