In the spring, after our seasons had ended, fate brought us together, sharing a scene in a wacky school musical that my friend Mike had written. I was the mad-hatter and she was at one of my tea-parties. It seemed almost like he had deliberately written those parts to put the two of us in the same space together, but I don't think he actually did.
We got closer than we'd ever been during those two months of rehearsal and cast parties. We spent tons of time together, completing each other's sentences, watching movies, grabbing meals, and drinking at house parties and in friend's basements. Intoxicating times, both because of the alcohol and because of her. She wasn't bubbly, but she was a beautiful, funny, midwestern girl.
For some reason though, I never said anything. Maybe it was a lack of courage or a fear of rejection veiled in a story that I "didn't want to ruin the friendship." Or maybe that she was older and I needed her to take the lead. Excuses aside, I sat silent on the central question.
And then she graduated...from being the drunk mouse at my mad tea party to the one that got away.
No comments:
Post a Comment