Frankly Told: Unrequited Love
Calm afro beats gently streamed out of the soundbar. The dancers on the television became nothing but visual noise. In the living room, they conversed with a pizza box between them. The wine sat in glasses balanced precariously on the soft white cotton cushions.
He sat mostly in silence, looking on as she talked so animatedly about this, that and the other. He took slow bites of a pizza slice that had since gone cold. From where he sat, he could see nothing but her fault in whatever she tried to explain. Still, he watched her, how her pearly white teeth slid into view behind her luscious lips. He laughed to himself, not believing how such words could pour out of so beautiful a face.
“What?” she cut herself short.
“Ah, nothing,” he realized he laughed out loud.
“No, don’t be like that!” she poked him with her finger. “Tell me.”
“I’m so serious, it’s nothing,” he insisted.
“I’m telling you my problems and you are choosing to just laugh at me,” she started pouting.
“Ah, no no, I’m not laughing,” he said.
“So you are telling me I am hearing my own things?” she gave him a look.
“Ah! I am not laughing at you!” he argued.
“Then tell me what you are laughing at,” she looked pleadingly at him. “Even me I want to laugh with you.”
He sighed and shook his head. He reached out and took his glass of wine from the couch, swirling it before bringing it smoothly to his lips. She maintained a piercing eye contact that made me slightly uncomfortable but he remained unphased on the surface. He smacked his lips and reached out his hand, placing it on her lap.
“Continue with your story,” he calmly instructed. “I am listening.”
“No,” she pouted again. “I don’t want to anymore. I am just a joke and you are not even trying to hear me out. You never listen to me.”
“That’s not fair,” he pointed out. “I always… Always listen to you.”
“How is it not fair when you are laughing at something serious I am trying to tell you? I am going through it right now and you are just laughing at me like I am just some big joke to you. This is big for me, it doesn’t matter if for you, it is something very small. I am trying to vent to you. You are my friend, no?”
He scoffed, then put on a serious look.
“You’re right,” he exhaled. “That also means I should tell you the truth. The truth is that you are wrong. In this particular situation, I think you are the one who is wrong for doing that. It doesn’t matter what excuse or argument you have. You are wrong.”
Her mouth dropped and her hand slowly crept to her chest as if he had just stabbed her.
“I think I am also wrong,” he shook his head. “I think right now, I am wrong. In the right way.”
“What are you talking about?” she squinted her eyes at him.
“I think I have somehow pushed myself through a negative experience until the opposite end.” He smiled at his foolishness. “I am sitting here thinking, you are probably ranting to me about it like this because I have always been your strongest fighter. Always on your side even when I have been questioning myself.”
Dropping the half-eaten slice on the box and dusting his hands of the crumbs off the crust, he gulped down the last of his wine.
“What do you mean?” she cowered, uncertain of what was to come.
“I think you know,” he charmed. “I don’t even think, I know… I know you know what I mean. I know you know how deeply I feel for you. How I would do anything for you. Stand by you come rain, come shine and to be fair, you are kinda right. It’s almost disrespectful the things I would do for you. Yet… I don’t think you would spare so much as an ounce of reciprocation. Just enough to keep me hooked.”
“I am sitting here listening to you talk about a guy you hooked up with, all the mistakes being made, all the shortcomings I imagine I have all the right tools to take care of.” Smacking his knees he gets up abruptly.
Her glass of wine almost toppled over and she caught it with a yelp. He apologized before going on with his thoughts.
“I keep thinking up ways to justify every single thing you do. Idiotic, if you ask me. Believe me, I have gotten amazing at finding a needle in a haystack for you,” he paced back and forth. “I’m tired so… yeah. It’s wrong of you to drag that man by his heartstrings and use up all his money. He is right to be mad at you. You are wrong for invalidating his feelings. He is right to withhold his resources. You are wrong for feeling entitled to his things, his time and his efforts.”
“Something about this one-sided thing — No, drink your wine. Drink.,” he pushed mid-point. “I’m saying, this one-sided thing has been a blessing!”
“How do you mean?” she asked after a pause.
“How do I mean?” he repeated. “I mean I learnt the depths of my own love. How to show up for people I hold dearest. What triggers me. What kind of treatment softens me up like melted butter; I want to hold that feeling in my heart over and over and over. I’ve learnt self-respect and I don’t think you have noticed me slowly implementing it. I kept going back to the lab slowly showing up for you in the ways I knew I was loving you openly and truthfully. No expectation of your love back to me… Meant I had to carry this thing in its truest form.”
“Can we just-?” she started.
“Huh! A positive side to this commonly toxic dynamic. Who knew?”
“The solution to unrequited love…. is unrequited love!
