segunda-feira, 5 de janeiro de 2015

Coisas que aprendi quando já era tarde demais.

                He was writing after a whole different topic, when she crossed his mind. Well, it didn’t exactly happened like that, but that is not the point. I like to dramatize things, so I guess you will have to just roll with it. Anyway, the point is: he realized he was in love.
                Of course, talking about love was always harsh, since he could never seem to settle down in one conclusion. Every time he met someone, his way of seeing the depths of loving and being loved changed. This time, it was not different.
                He encountered this girl. She was stunning, I must say. She had those big light brown eyes, the ones that you get hypnotized every time you get a glance on them. Her hair was a dark and straitened one, although he knew that she had a curly hair. He didn’t care, actually. He thought that she would look good even with no hair at all (kind of). She also had a beautiful body. Not too tall, but not too short either. Hands that felt comfy if held by his. A neck worth mentioning, given its tastiness (biting was one of his favorite sports). Great boobs. Awesome ass. The whole package included, he said to himself. Of course, that package included a smile that he would never get tired of seeing. All her teeth were perfect, white and big, and her mouth was filled with them. He didn’t believe when she said she had never used bracers before. Seriously, he even considered that she was lying. They were way too perfect. The combination of her smile and mouth itself was something else. He couldn’t decide if he should close his eyes and kiss her or just stare at her, waiting for a bright smile to show up. It was indeed a though decision.
                This realization came after only a few months after they met. In fact, he had suspicious that even before that, right after they started talking about if they preferred a dog or a cat; he was already in deep trouble. Wait. Big trouble? Why is that? He loved her, what is the big deal here? Look. Even there he knew that liking her could easily turn out to be a bad idea. First of all, she didn’t live quite near him. It wasn’t like a country apart or anything, but it was still a considerable amount of time to get to her. Second, she was younger than him. Four years, to be exact. He was in the middle of his college life, and she was in her senior year of high school. He had no problem with her age thing. In fact, he did think that she was way more mature than most of his friends (probably more than him, actually). However, it didn’t take much time for others to start feeling a bit awkward about their relationship. I mean, for the majority (her parents included), being friends was acceptable and heathy, but crossing the line of friendship just couldn’t seem to be okay with them. He knew the problems. She knew the problems. Yet, they soon found out that being just friends with each other wasn’t enough. 
                Being madly in love with that girl had its consequences. As you may know, men don’t have the superpower of reading a woman’s mind. He was consistently wondering how she felt about him, if she wanted the same as him and all those things that creep around your thoughts when you have feelings for someone. He was conscious that it was normal to feel that way, he had already been there once. Still, it almost drove him insane. He could not spare the doubt. That terrifying gap between knowing and not knowing. Does she like me at all? Am I crazy to think that she likes me? If she doesn’t, how will this affect me? Or our friendship? How will she react to that? All these things were running through his head at a speed that would defy all the laws of physics.
                After all the stress put into him, he finally did something about it and asked. Was this a simple thing? Of course not. He had to do it with the drama within his body and soul. Instead of just asking “How do you feel about me?” or even “Do you like me?”, he wrote a letter her. Yes, you read it right. A letter. Despite being in the twenty-first century and having a cellphone right across the table, he chose one of the oldest methods of writing. At least he just typed it in the computer and didn’t go through it all the way. He actually loved writing letters, but he needed to know her answer right away. Yes, I dramatized it a little bit. Well, you know me. Sorry.
                As soon as he sent it to her in Facebook, he went straight to the kitchen, without looking anything else. He could feel his heart pumping the blood through his veins. It was been a while since he felt that nervous before. He took his time there, walking and making sure that the whole floor would get covered. He waited seven minutes. It was plenty of time for her to respond. Would she even bother to reply? She could just ignore it and never talk to him again. Or even say the famous cliché “I like you as a friend.”. I’m glad it wasn’t the case.
                They went out to the movies, one time. Yes, they did make out. Finally. After that, they’ve met a few times, all of them near her place. Always on Mondays, since it was the only day he didn’t any classes. Each time, he used to count the days, seeking for the time when he would have her right in front him, just a few centimeters of distance. He would always wait for her in the same pot, right under a streetlight. Why? No particular reason. Maybe because when he used went it was by midday and the pole provided some shadow for him to stay. He didn’t want to be late, so he had to wait for some minutes until she left school. Patience was never one of his virtues, but he knew the waiting was worth. He knew that as soon as she crossed that door, everything would suddenly disappear. Everything around him would simply vanish and the only thing, the only delightful thing left would be her, with that lovely black coat of hers (her class room was cold). It was an uncommon feeling. It was consuming him, from inside out. Day by day, he saw the hours passing by, yet the earth wouldn’t move at all. She was a part of him now. He felt complete around her.
                Eventually, things went cold. They stopped seeing each other. It wasn’t a mutual thing, obviously, but they couldn’t just keep up with that, get attached and then break up. They knew what was coming. Life was coming. She would have to move out in the next year to a different state. He knew she had a life ahead of her, especially with her age. How could he deprive her from all those new things that she would stumble across? Her senior year of high school. Her freshman year of college. Besides, they both knew how hard it would be to sustain a distance relationship. Being miles and miles away from someone you love and still have no clue on when you are going to see again is something that can make you crumble. And they didn’t want to crumble.
                It wasn’t simple, though. The “thing” (what they liked to call whatever was going on between them) came in such an easy way that both didn’t know what actually happened. One week, they were strangers that have never shared a single word. In the next one, they couldn’t help but talk all day long, about nothing and everything. They became each other’s routine. Yes, they would eventually sleep (she would always do that in the middle of the talk), but he would wake up wanting to talk even more, if that was even possible. It was different from everything that he had imagined. How could that be? What did she have that made her so unique? That aura of hers… Even after all of it, he still didn’t know. His daily struggle of surviving without her didn’t change any of his feelings towards her. She still had the same appealing eyes. The same alluring smile. The same particular personality. They were just… far from him.
                You know what they say that you don’t get to choose if you get hurt in this world, but you do have some say in who hurts you? He believed in that. And wouldn’t change anything.

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