We were supposed to be in the season. Us! My make up done, hair styled, strutting off in my most expensive gown, struggling to look like a natural on heels while I waited for you. All buff in your tux, your dark skin glistening under the street light, you would alight from the Uber with arms waiting for me.
You would stop when you see me, too shocked to move. You would let out a scream for both of us.
“You look so beautiful”, You’d say eyes wide, eyebrows agreeing with you. I would let out a shy ‘thank you’. I would not compliment you immediately because I wanted to mean those words and not just sound polite.
We would start the ride and I would let out those words; “You look really good, I can’t even deal”
That reaction will filter through like window blinds making way for the sun. You would flash those beautiful dentition, still forming hard guy but my words would break those hard walls making you a smitten guy.
We would get to your final year dinner. Gleeful, you would usher me to the hall.
“Wow, they look so perfect together”, People would whisper.
“I don’t deserve this, you look perfect tonight”, You would say out loud. The ‘awws , omg and so cute’ will thunder on our table.
“Let’s have this dance”, You would say after our meal. Your hands on my waist, your breathe on my face, my face on your well sculptured shoulder, our soul in union. We would go on and on until fatigue signaled us to stop.
The night would not be perfect if you do not remove your jacket to shield me from the cold I was not feeling. We would wait for our ride. Right there in the cab, that moment would symbolize our genesis. The revelation of what our union would be.
You would drop me in front of my hostel, we would get into a fake argument.
“No, I can’t keep your jacket, I would say finally, handing it over to you.
I would head back to my room, elated. I would stop in front of the mirror to look at myself. Finally, everything was happening in my life. I would get to my room and fade into sleep.
Fading…It faded…Our friendship faded. It did not even last to your final year. We barely talk except when we randomly see each other on campus. Our friendship did not blossom into anything. It withered like plants do during drought but unlike the farmer I do not feel sad. I do not feel anything even when it is around the time I imagined we would be last year.
Some nights, I just lay on the mat of confusion asking myself; what did you mean when you said you did not “just want us to be friends?”
It was that moment ever fabric of our future became a whole dress.
It is the season, our hands are not intertwined, we are not in the same space. All I know is that we faded into the hall of ‘what would have been’.