I recently met up
with an old friend of mine whom I hadn't seen in quite some time. He
came over to my house and we sat on the terrace. It was a beautiful
night in the middle of February, a night that smelled of spring:
calm, without a single leaf moving on the trees and with the stars
shining above us.
We sat there
listening to music and a fair number of drinks later we got to
talking about relationships. It was basically me narrating the story
of my most recent heartbreak and him pretending to listen patiently
while in fact thinking about completely random things, I'm pretty
sure (by the way, if you are reading this, know that I tried to be as
brief as possible!). Among other things I told him that for some
weird reason, the guy I was talking to him about made me trust him,
despite barely knowing him and although I find it very difficult to
trust people in general.
“And you know
what?” I told my friend. “He was the only person to whom I've
been the first to say “I think I like you.”
My friend let out a
laugh, maybe with a hint of bitterness. “Every time I've told a
girl I really like her, she eventually disappears.”
No comments:
Post a Comment