Fear can easily be overcome, because fear is an abstract concept. It is an intangible thing that we make up in our head. It's a learnt behaviour that can be unlearnt. Fear should help us make attentive decisions and not deter us from commitments. Always remember that.

 

I arrived and he was the first to spot me, just before I had the time to consider turning around and bail. I made my clumsy entrance, my limbs nervous and my head empty. We hugged, awkwardly, and my hand ended up on his waist. The warmth and softness of his body made me lose focus. 

 

The evening was very calm. Uneventful. That of the deceiving weather before the storm. From time to time I'd forget my task, and try and convince myself not to execute the plans I had. It'd be so much better. So much easier to pretend and let hope live on. But the clock was ticking and time was running out. I cursed myself for deliberatly arriving late, even though it probably was for the best. There is no meaning in prolonging any suffering, even a merciful kind. But watching him converse and smile and laugh, it endowed me with such tranquility.

 

We were having a good time. Yet the night had to end. I sensed time was scarce. I looked at him, my posture sank with abject surrender, and with my final breath whispered in his ear that I needed to talk later. There it was, no return. I had to commit now. 

 

His stance changed. He'd tap the table restlessly with his fingers. I felt a sting of regret for putting him in this position, but I had no choice. We left together and walked a short distance to the next subway station. He nudged me with his elbow, and asked me what I wanted to talk about. The words came out with ease, I had been practicing. 

 

"It's difficult to say now that I'm living on the other side of the world," he began. There it was, I thought. The merciful reply. I wanted nothing more but to hold on to that vague and evading excuse, but I was here tonight not to be pardoned, but to be killed. "You always know what you feel. Just tell me. I already know the answer. I just need to hear it," I said. Then it came. "It's just that, we have been friends for so long, it'd be hard for me to see you as anything more." That's what he said. He really said that. Remember those words. He said them. He meant them.

 

"You are one of my closest friends here," he said. I dont believe him. How can we be close. He doens't even know the whole me. It's just one of those typical things people say to console the rejected. I let him. 

 

For a second I thought I could hold it in. I didn't feel the impact right away. Then it sneaked up on me. I panicked when the treachous tears filled my eyes. I had rehearsed this. I wasn't going to cry. Not like this out on the streets, in front of him. But I did. He held his arm around me. In my mind I kept scolding myself to get my shit together and save the little dignity I had left. Within seconds, I succeeded. There's the disciplined girl I know.

 

A brief moment went by, and I looked at the lamps and the light outside that store. This was it, I thought. This was goodbye. "I want to be friends. I don't want to be nothing," I heard myself squeak. "And you aren't nothing." But I felt as if I'd disappear, forever.