The tears are blurring my vision, and I look down at the letter I'd been writing. It seems pathetic now. There's so much raw emotion in what he's saying that I can't stop the sobs from coming now.
Phrases stick out at me. "Someone you always looked up to", "hurt you so much", "so blind", "sees through every barrier you have", "stranger"....
I choke back my own confused responses. I never knew... "Time for a walk"
The laptop is discarded, and I'm already on my feet, shaking.
"If you're willing to meet up..." I'm changed in a flash, still swiping at stray tears as the reply comes through "I'm under the bridge x"
My fingers fumble to type a coherent message back as I trip downstairs. The tremors are becoming finer, but not fine enough. I have to see him. That's the only thing I can think. The replies are flying round my head but I can't think straight enough to hear any of them, my heart's hammering too loud to hear anything.
Somehow I manage to fit the key in the door, lock it, then I'm running.
The shock of running isn't as bad as the shock that I can't seem to stop.
Let me just clarify something here. I can't run. Not for more than 5 seconds.
More than that, I don't run. Especially not on frost. Especially not at 2am.
Yet here I am, running towards Upperton Road, unable to stop. All I can think is "slow down! Slow down!" I need time to think. What am I going to say? What am I going to do?
I turn the corner onto Upperton and manage to slow down. Now it's a quick walk. Slow down. And the thoughts are coming faster and faster - but none of them stay long enough for me to nail them down. It's like rain... a torrent of questions, of arguments, or statements, and answers all tumbling through my mind as I try to keep calm and just walk.
Maybe he's not even there. Maybe he's moved. Maybe he doesn't want to be disturbed. Maybe he's with someone else. Maybe... the thoughts move past what he's doing now onto what the hell I'm doing.
I should have stayed in bed. Should have written a reply. Should have called him. Should have done things differently. Should have picked up the stupid letter... The list goes on.
Retorts start to form. "I ran here..", "I had to walk to try and think of something to say, and I still have nothing...", "There's so much I want to say..", "Do you know how many bridges are in Leicester? And do you know how far they all are from mine?"... "So, I read your blog..."
None of them are appropriate. What the hell am I going to say when I get there?
The bridge starts to loom in sight and the butterflies start trying to escape. I'm gonna be sick.... but my feet still wont slow down; and I still can't think of anything to say.
I try to picture how I'll find him. Will he be sat? Stood? Laid down? Upset? Angry? Frustrated? Tired? Happy...? okay that one seems unlikely...
I find myself scrubbing at my face and trying to stop the sniffing so he doesn't know I've cried all the way here. I want to pause at the top of the steps that lead down to the bridge he always refers to as mine, pause to compose myself... but my feet are already thundering down them.
There he is. Laid on his back where we always lie; illuminated by the glow of his phone. I climb up next to him, still searching for something... anything... to say.
"hi..." it comes out as a whisper, almost a whimper. I'm frozen by the lack of words in my head. The shaking has just about stopped though, so I do the only thing I can now (since my mouth is on strike), I lie on top of him in an apologetic embrace...
"I'm sorry..."
"S'ok."
"No... it's not..."
The strange thing is, I wanted to tell him all these things. I wanted to say that he hasn't been open and honest with me. I wanted to have it out with him and actually get everything off my chest. I wanted to tell him he's been hurting me too, constantly... but none of it comes out.
I want to say that the reason I've been shouting at him in public is because he's been pissing me off in public. I want to say that the reason I've been acting like his mum is because he's been acting like a naughty child... but all the harsh words have shriveled up and I can't say anything.
His text goes off again and I leave him to his friend. I don't have to look to know who it is.
Is this how Lisa felt?...
The silence keeps filling up, and I don't know how to break it. Words come to my lips and die there. "How silly are we? Sat here in silence under a bridge?" it wont come out. "This is just like our friendship lately..." it wont come out.
Finally he taps my leg and gets up.
"Come on."
We're walking now and he looks at me.
"Can we be friends again now?" he asks. His voice is almost childlike. So innocent and full of painful hope. I can't even reply. I just hug him - tight.
Things are still whirring round my head, but they're settling down now.
You've heard the saying "cut off your nose to spite your face" ? Well, that's what falling out with him is like for me. It's like cutting away a part of myself in order to sulkily say "there - that'll teach you..."
And that's what makes me swallow all my hurts, and all the angry words; all the stupid comments that I want to yell and cry. Not because I'm in love with him or some soppy crap like that. It's because I value him beyond anything I can explain. I'd take every ounce of pain this world could offer if it took even a drop away from him. It's because I respect him in ways I never expected; as a friend, as a twin soul, as someone I've always looked up to, idolised even. Someone I've finally come to see as real, with faults that make him even more amazing than if he was perfect, someone human...
And what's more, I hold it all back because I'm only just realising that I mean something to him. I always knew in some way... always knew he cared... but I never dreamed he would feel more than a brotherly, patronising warmth towards me. It's like I truly have been blind, to never see past that. To never realise someone who isn't related to me, and under the age of 8, was able to look up to me in any way.
It should be an ego boost, but instead it's humbling.
I want to run away, run home, or further; the need to escape is reaching critical mass. I'm going to explode if I don't get away now. I try to walk away... but he looks at me and there's an expectation there. I can't read that look, but I can't leave him either. Damn.
Friendships are far too hard.
Why can they not be as simple as they used to be?
See, friendships start off simple, and fun, and easy... then they get complicated and hard...
I wish it were all still fun and games.
Oh well, lets face it - the juice is worth the squeeze
Blessed Be xx
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