My Selfish Fairy Tale

By: Noe

Graphics by: Cassius Klai C. Francisco

It’s been four years since we first spoke. Three since we last met. It's been two weeks since we last spoke. One night, since I couldn’t keep you off my mind. I think about the first time we spoke over text. My heart was pounding out of my chest, just trying to say hello. It was almost as if my body knew what you would mean to me. Once we spoke, it was like my fingers were ablaze to tell you about my day. I wished for nothing more than to know yours. We would talk about your family and your distance. You were so close, yet so far; it ached me each day. 

When we met for class, I could barely even look in your direction. You were more radiant than your profile could suggest. I was red with joy, and I wish you could read this, Joy. Good God, the grin on my face when I knew I could help you. I looked ridiculous, and that still never mattered to you. I would smile from ear to ear just speaking your name. It felt like a taboo not to. I would like to speak about my accomplishments and share them with you. You were this blinding flashing light that was always ahead of me. You were the sun’s rays shining on me, giving me warmth even in my sickest days. It was selfish to call you more than a friend when I never told you about this. It was no surprise, nor was it my right, to intrude on you. The moment you spoke of a past love or current fixation, the selfish part of me decided to shrivel up and writhe in pain, not knowing I had no right to you.

It was childish and reckless to throw myself into the whims of you. You were the sun for the reason that I could never get closer. If you were the sun, then I should’ve been a moon or, better yet, a tree. Basking in you and all your joy.

My friend introduced me to you. What more can I say about him? He’s my best friend for a reason. He’s courageous, polite, outgoing, and free-spirited. It was like a match made in heaven when you announced you were going to see him. I couldn’t fault you for going. You weren’t mine, and yet I deluded myself into thinking about how you could be. You come back, and you’re the first to tell me about your date. “It was like a fairytale.” You go on and on about how magical the night was. A movie seemed so short in the time you were staring at him. The food tasted better because he had cooked it himself. The wind felt cooler, as if he had blown the breeze.

It wasn’t until Christmas that I decided to share my heartfelt feelings with you. Writing that letter took everything out of me, and I think that was for the best. Later that night, I braced myself for what I knew was inevitable. Your truth stung and crushed me. Why did I feel like this looking back? I had never made my feelings known previously, and I expected to be rewarded for being a friend, nothing more. I’m glad for the break before next year. We kept in touch even after the ordeal. You still saw me as a friend, and I believed I could settle for that. I helped with your lines and was excited to see you on that stage you loved. You talked about the stage with a sparkle in your eye that I’ve never seen since. The day arrived, and I was stunned at your beauty. Your dress, your hair, your eyes, your nose, & your smile captured my heart again from across the audience. I was in the rafters watching your scene. You took over the stage. It was like watching an artist come to life.

We were still in contact even after the school year had ended. I knew you would go further into the city, honing your craft. While I stayed here waiting for you again. Events came and went, but I remember speaking to you once. You were different. You smoked. You spoke differently. I still yearned for you the same. The smoke was just a vapor I could ignore. The words you spoke were just arranged differently from how you used to say them. You still looked at me the same—with a warm, unassuming glance. That was the last we saw and almost the last we spoke. 

Adjusting to college has been tough: new city, new people, new goals, and new opportunities. It wasn’t until Halloween that I saw you again. Like a ghost from my past, you were there. We never spoke and you never saw me, but I’d be lying if I didn’t say that it hurt. I stood back and let the time pass me by a bit more. We spoke a few weeks ago after some idiot harassed me. You sent seven words, and it’s taken me more than a week to stop reminiscing. I stay up at night tossing and turning. Thinking if we’re still even friends. My selfish desires turned a friendship into a stagnant lake I sit by and look at every once in a while. I skip rocks and look at the ripples, thinking, what would it take for us to speak again? I’m sorry again and again—my selfish fairytale.