one week

It's been one week... a week. I've been lookin' at my best bud in a different way now.

My best bud, Chris. I've known him since I've learned the true meaning of friendship. It was during the young worry- free years. Well, it wasn't really the young years. We were both in fifth grade, he was 11, and I was a year younger. With two more we formed our barkada. I've got plenty of good memories with them and still counting. I remembered when we used to play that game... a game I'd love to play again now! Rules of the game were plain and simple, when you're it you'd be blindfolded and you'd go huntin' and you'd guess who your prey was. Ha ha... I loved that game. He once pulled my feet when I ducked under the bed, I was his favorite victim. And when it is my turn to be it, he'd block my way with pillows, I'd fall but he'd help me up. I knew he'd help. It felt good. Another memorable moment was when he told me a joke, a green joke. Geesh, that was the first green joke ever said to me. We visited each other's home, eat in a fancy restaurant with still low prices of course. We travel together, home- school travellin' that is. Do this and that... everyday was a dream.

I never wanted this... With our friendship, I never dreamt of something more. I guess it's typical for a teen to fall for someone wonderful. As wonderful as Chris, dark hair, round brown eyes, thick lashes, positive attitude, all under the structure of a slender physique enveloped in pale skin. But it's hard to fall for a friend. I felt like, like I can't be trusted, I felt bad, I felt uneasy.

Each day, when we talk, I wanted more. I wanted to tell him, but I can't and I musn't. Whenever his hand brushes mine... each day heartbeats were goin' off the scale.

On his nineteenth birthday, last week, everything changed. We went out, his treat. He danced with me. But there was this girl he flirtatiously chatted with. Pretty, smart-lookin babe, disco girl. I felt pain. I wanted to snatch him back to me. But I cannot show it, I got no right. All I could do was watch them... watch them dance... the way we dance...

After the nightout, we stayed at their home at San Francisco Street. We had a lot of fun, we got drunk, now that's how we define fun! I felt that that was the right time. With Faye and Celeste soundly asleep, he asked me to go out ans walk. So we did, I kept thinking there could really be no better time. I must give it a shot... And, and compete with the disco girl. I promised myself- I'll try. I'll try tonight...

We walked around the block, shared jokes, laughed loud, and ran when a little dog barked at us and tried to chase us. We fell down the front lawn of his home, gasping for air. That was the time I waited for. It was a do-or-die situation for me.

I sat up, took the deepest breath I ever took in my entire eighteen years, and blurted out my feelings, the undying passion in me, the emotions I can no longer hide, the feeling that makes me feel alive, the same feeling that kills me... the only magic I believe in... He just smiled. And said he treasures me dearly as a friend. A friend! Awww! Ouch big time!!! That disco babe won him over. I couldn't believe it. I was about to get mad when I heard him say that he is sorry for both of us. Huh? He confessed that he prefers the ever-after story of Pretty Woman, that he likes pink the way I do, that he prefers a Julia Roberts flick than Sean Connery's, and that I would look better if I would wear a shade of...

Shock, stunned, bewildered, wild- eyed, I slumped back down, tears spilled, I didn't hear the rest of the things he said... oh... oh... Then I saw his angel face, half concerned, and the other half, ashamed. I felt pity, but I musn't. So I stood up and said that he was right. I should let the feeling die and at least we have a lasting friendship. I tried to lift his spirit. I sang our song... souls in the wind must learn how to bend see how the stars hold on till the end... and he sang with me as we went inside to catch some sleep.

Its been a week. And it hurts. I still love him as much as I did before and it's still growing. I care for him. And I would still, though it may take sometime, I would wait for him to be the man of my dreams. And if I ever grew tired of waiting, I might fall for another, but I'd still love him. I can't change him. I can't make him. All I could do now is to hope, pray , wishinng, and keep on hanging tha the power of love may change. It might not be through my magic, who knows, he'd be a man in the touch of a better femme, maybe that disco girl.