FRIENDZONED

When I met him I inmediatly fell in love with his lips: thick and fleshy. Not rosy, but red and soft. His lips never chapped, I found that odd and lovely at the same time. Paired with those lips was a fantastic smile: the kind of smile that made everything seem better. He was tall, had brown hair, brown eyes and huge hands. He was complete with his smell: he didn’t smell of anything artificial, rather, he smelled like himself. A natural smell that I loved and felt intoxicated by. The problem was that he didn’t feel the same for me. We went to the same school, in fact that is where we met.

We were friends, yes, best friends in fact. For some reason we never really took the next step. We thought, maybe, that we had all the time in the world. He knows everything about me, absolutely everything, and yet, I don’t know everything about him… Why am I writing this? So you won’t make the same mistake, dear reader. You thought that being the third wheel is bad: try being the one that he almost loved. That is even worse. Now it’s called being “FRIENDZONED”, trust me, this term seems too lighthearted and is often used as a joke.

I’ve known him for ten years. Now, that I’m an adult I can look at things in a different light: he hasn’t lifted a finger or a toe for me. He knows I find him attractive, but I’m not a child anymore, he can’t use that to manipulate me. Dear reader: love yourself enough to know that the only one who is in pain is you.

There is nothing romantic about being the one in the “’FRIENDZONE”, for those who manage to get out of that horrible place: congratulations. But for those who spend years and years in the same place: get out by your own means. They don’t love you enough and never will. There is nothing romantic  about suffering, and it is this writer’s belief that it should be avoided at all costs (unless it’s a tattoo, then by all means, continue). Please consider this: if it hurts your heart, why do you do it?

If you are wondering what happened to the man that almost loved me: he married and has three children, but not with me. I, however, continue with my life and now I realize that it is up to me to fix myself. It’s not easy, but hey, someone has to do it.      

Kisses...

I've been thinking that what I like the most about being in a romantic relationship are the kisses. But not any kiss: that kiss that makes everything seem less important. You know, that one kiss that has some sort of magic power to erase everything that has gone wrong in life. I miss that. I need it back. 

If you think about it, a kiss is probably more intimate than sex. At least I feel it that way, it's the first step towards other forms of intimacy: the way it's done, the intention behind it, the people who are involved... who and when did we learn as a species to do it? 

Any way, that's all I wanted to say. I miss it, and I want it back.