"How much do you like this guy?"
That was a tough one. Who even asked that? She immediately regretted having asked for advice. She groped for words in her mind. Nothing seemed satisfactory. She couldn't clearly put together the thoughts swishing past her mind. What had been racing through her mind for months. They had been in a friend-almost-boyfriend-but-not-quite for almost 2 years now. She wasn't too sure she was comfortable with it but she knew she could live with it.At least for a while longer. Then suddenly she had had the urge to share her doubts with her friends. Now what kind of mistake was that? She looked at her passé and half listened, half understood, half ignored what they were ranting on about.
".....You know he will drag you along forever and then you'll end up the old spinster ex standing at his wedding....."
She liked him, desperately. She knew that. Maybe loved him even. She could not think of all the negativity surrounding this conversation. Her days always seemed brighter, her work load seemed lighter, her steps were always springy. She could honestly not remember a time her life had felt this beautiful. Of course other than the fact that she had no idea where it was going and she was afraid to her marrow that if he hurt her she would never recover. She had heard of those stories. Stories of women who tried to commit suicide after they had been left. Women who quit their jobs or relocated or went slightly mad. She never thought it would ever be her. At least not until now.
"......I know this girl who was once led on for like 7 years, kidogo tu, she get's an invitation to his engagement party. Do you know she just packed up....."
But she had only been in this for 2 years. She was sure it would not go up to 7 years. Please no...As the conversation drifted, she had half a heart to call him and ask where it was all going. But she had read somewhere, or maybe heard somewhere, that he would declare his feelings when he was ready. Don't push him. He's the strong quiet type. She knew they were definitely beyond being just pals, buddies, boys... but she wasn't sure they were at a point where they were declaring feelings. What if he didn't feel the same way? What if she called at a bad time? What if? The doubts and fears grew as the conversation wore on.
"....You should know where this is going. We're not getting any younger and these games are going to age you faster than you think...."
She doubted anything they had been through so far could count as things that would make her age faster. Her mind wondered to his strong hands, his hearty laughter, his smooth voice, his smile. The thoughts wandered off to his touch, his kiss, his firm hold on the small of her back. As far as she knew, no one had ever said such things, like what they were doing, lead to faster ageing. If anything, her hair and skin had a new glow which she needed to keep going for a long time to come. But as she listened to the now half drunk advise, she wondered how long that would be. How long before he takes the glow with him and leave her as a pale shadow of her former self.
".....Men can be bastards though. Leading you on until they finally get what they want or someone better. You don't want to be that girl, do you?...."
Why was no one telling her anything good. Married and single women alike. She just needed one person to tell her to be patient with him and he will eventually come round. To tell her that his laughter would be hers forever, that his strong arms would only hold her. She needed to hear so much and this women whom she had confided in were just telling her the opposite as the drinks kept pouring in. Her paranoia had however grown into unsustainable heights. She looked down at her phone. Willing it to ring. To prove these women wrong. To make her heart stop flailing around wildly around her chest.
"...you know he's a fool if he doesn't know what he has with you....."
That was the quietest statement she heard all night. Almost as if it had been whispered to only her. The eyes were looking directly at her. Asking her to believe it. If she was going to believe anything that night, she knew, that was what she needed to believe. That this idiot she thought she loved, needed to think he loved her back. She looked down at her hands. Now sweaty and warm and clumsy. She excused herself and picked up her things. She needed to get some air. She was starting to panic beyond her normal limit. As she stumbled towards the exit, she finally knew what she had to do.
"Hey. Can we talk?"