Ky...
REBLOGS ENCOURAGED BUT PLEASE DO NOT REPOST. PLEASE DO NOT REMOVE.
The way you used to say my name.
“Ky…”
I have not thought of you in weeks. But suddenly, in the middle of the night, musing blankly under the warm spray of the shower, I could hear your voice in my ear again.
“Ky…”
It was soft and sweet, and pouty and concerned, and sad and pleading, and all the different ways you used to say my name.
“Ky… Please don’t do this.”
“I have to.”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’ll get over it.”
And that was a cold thing to say, but weakness was never a trait I liked to display. And emotion was a thing I struggled to express unless in written words such as this one. But you knew. I knew you knew.
“Describe me in 5 words.”
“Hmm…you never run out of things to say.”
“Yeah, I am rather chatty.”
“You’re sweet-”
“Sweet? I am not sweet. I fight you all the time.”
“You don’t see it but you’re a sweet person.”
And I knew right then that you knew me. That you understood my core personality and that everything I left unsaid did not need to be voiced. I was comfortable enough with the fact that you could easily read through my contradictions.
Heart on my sleeve.
Icy heart tucked away behind giant metal doors.
Because human beings are more complex than we can explain and I knew I was both. When was I truly telling the truth? Sometimes I didn’t even know myself. But you’d figure it out easily. Because you knew me.
“Babe.”
“How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me that?”
You laugh and I feel the urge to reach across the phone line and hit you over the head. And no matter how many times I tell you off for flirting with me, you do it anyway and it pisses me off because don’t you know how dangerous this is?
“Ky…”
“What?”
“I love you.”
“Oh my god. Stop it.”
“What?”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not.”
“You are. You’re also stupid.”
“Did you want me to prove it to you?”
And I fall silent and I hastily redact my statement because what if you did try to prove it to me? And what if you succeeded? Then we can no longer dance around the topic. Then I’d have to acknowledge it. Then it would be real. And we would be over. We would lose what we have. I would lose you. Do you not know how much I rely on you?
“Ja…you know how sometimes I like to listen to horror stories to sleep?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you read me one, please?”
And you complied. It started as a random idea. For years willing myself to sleep has been a challenge but your voice is calming and soothing and just like that I’m fast asleep and it works like magic so pretty soon I always call you when I’m struggling to sleep.
“Psst.”
“Hm?”
“Read me a story. Please.”
“One second.”
“Okay.”
“Okay send me that link again.”
“Where are you right now?”
“In my boss’ office. He’s not in right now.”
“You’re going to get fired.”
“No, I’m not. What story did you want me to read?”
And I smile because it’s the middle of the day on your end in the middle of work and I can hear your coworkers’ voices muffled as they chat on the other side of the door, but you always make time for me even if it were something as silly as reading me a bedtime story. I laugh at your pronunciation as you start and you shush me and tell me to close my eyes and I do and the next thing I know I open my eyes and hours have passed and the line is dead. Why was the line dead? I missed you. Why was I feeling this way?
“Ja…”
“Hm?”
“Don’t sleep yet.” Don’t go.
“Okay.”
“I’m saying don’t sleep yet.” I’m lonely.
“Mm-hm.”
“You’re falling asleep.” Don’t leave me.
“No, I’m not.”
“I’m going to be annoying on purpose. Will you get annoyed?” Tell me what a selfish pain in the ass I’m being right now and that I should give you your rest.
“No.”
“…are you sure?” That’s not what I said. Are you challenging me?
“Yes.”
“Ja.”
“Yes?”
“Ja.”
“Hm?”
“Am I annoying yet?”
“No.”
“Ja.” Why are you so patient with me?
This was getting dangerous, I could tell. But you were there for me when I needed you and I was there for you when you needed me and when despair hits, as life sometimes likes to throw at people, we always helped each other through it.
“Ja…are you okay?”
“Not really.”
“Talk to me.”
“I don’t feel good enough.”
“We all don’t feel good enough. Doesn’t mean we aren’t.”
And remember that one time you woke up to me sobbing and your raspy just-woke-up voice called out to me in that familiar way you say my name?
“Ky?”
“Yes?”
“Are you okay?”
“No.”
“What’s wrong?”
“My grandfather just died.”
“…shit.”
And you didn’t say a thing when I tried to pull myself together and pretended to be strong because I am strong and I am not weak and that’s what I do - pretend. Even when I’m breaking inside. You didn’t call me out. You let me pretend but you never failed to let me know that you were there for me when I was ready to stop struggling to hold the pieces together and just let it fall apart.
“Ja.”
“What?”
“Okay seriously, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“It is not nothing. You’ve been giving me attitude since earlier and I don’t understand so you better communicate. What’s wrong?”
“It’s nothing.”
“I swear to god, man, you are stressing me out and you know I do not like to be stressed. Talk to me.”
“I was jealous.”
And oh, that was a pleasant surprise. But I did not skip a beat. My voice remained continuous and stern belaying that I wasn’t fazed at all. But if you could have seen my face, half red and half grinning and why was I feeling this way? This was dangerous.
“Look, I can’t be friends with you anymore.”
“Ky…no.”
“I’m getting too reliant on you and I feel like I’m taking advantage of you and I’m starting to become selfish.”
“What’s wrong with that?”
“Did you not just hear me? I’m taking advantage of you. And I’m becoming selfish.”
“I don’t mind.”
“I do.”
“Ky…”
“So look we can’t be friends anymore, okay?”
“I don’t want to lose you.”
“You’ll get over it. I’m sorry.”
“Well, just know that whenever you need me, you can just call.”
“I will not be calling again.”
And my heart twisted in knots but my voice remained steady, if not rushed because I cannot show weakness even when it is killing me inside. Even when I know I want you. And the weeks following were the hardest because do you know how hard it is to sleep alone after having had someone? And how it’s twice as hard willing myself to sleep after knowing the peace that brought slumber that only your voice could give me?
It wasn’t the stories that lulled me to sleep it was your soothing voice. And there were nights I was so close to just picking the phone up and calling you. Wanting to say those familiar lines, “Read me a story,” But I survived. I knew I did the right thing by letting you go. Letting you return to the life you had before our lives collided. And I have not spoken to you since.
Do you know how much I miss you? Because you were also one of my best friends. You knew me and you were there for me and you understood me. You were one of the best friends I’ve ever had.
But you were in love with me.
And I was starting to fall in love with you.
And I couldn’t have that.
And I lost a best friend in the process.
Why are the sweetest people the most dangerous ones?
