The sexual tension between us was like silly string. Though I’m sure it was thicker on his end and thinner on mine. Despite the carnal looks he gave me behind that sheepish smile, I knew that it was time. I had the scissors ready in my hands to end this gauche chase.

I made the motion to him to come follow me out of the sweltering store and have a seat on the ground. I sighed heavily and rested my back against the window. Dirt and pebbles crackled beneath me as I shifted into a comfortable position on the rough concrete.

He followed me nervously like my dog does after a rough scolding. How could I tell him? He was my friend, but I could see in the way he looked at me that he wanted to be more. I knew he would patiently wait an eternity if I gave him one obliging signal over any course of time.

If I wanted to save this friendship, I had to be the one to bravely speak. I wasn’t going to let this tension haunt us any longer. I shifted the dirt between my fingers. I wasn’t nervous, but I was scared I’d hurt him. I cared about him, but he wanted a different kind of care that I just couldn’t give him.

“You know, you’re one of my best friends.” I licked my lips. I still couldn’t look at him. “But I can’t think of you as any more than that.”

There! I did it!

I choked back a sigh. I wanted him to see that this didn’t affect me.

But it was painful. I knew that inside him the gallons of hope for me to ever love him swiftly evaporated away with that statement. I was the coward though. I couldn’t even look him in the eye while telling him something that would change the way he looked at me forever.

Superficial conversation soon followed, and he sauntered around lightly acting out that nothing had hurt him. But I knew by looking at his eyes that it did.

© 2004 – 2015 H.K. Rowe