“BestFriends” and hair flips

Momo…Momo you’re heavy…

Mowwww *nudge nudge* Mowwww

Crusty, heavy eyes fighting to open, dry mouth, and a big fluffy Siamese/Snowshoe cat on my neck.

I gently move my cat off my neck and my skin instantaneous rises at the feel of cool morning air sliding across my exposed neck. I lazily roll out of the comfort of my warm blanket and firm mattress. My hair sticks out wildly as if I was at a rave; strands sticking out like antennas.

I go out to get brunch with a really close friend of mine back from high school and it’s a mixture of happiness and confusion. We’ve always gone to get an annual breakfast together and we always get the same thing to split. An order of warm, fluffy waffles and a huge ass steaming, loaded omelet.

Bilbo is what we’ll call my friend.

Our relationship is interesting. We met through a mutual friend, his ex, and got close from his break up oddly.

We both went to the same high school and I was familiar with his girl at the time. The late nights painting masks in drama crew to the pranking to us organizing our thoughts under the stars late at night; Bilbo and I seemed to always be able to chit-chat for a little while.

With Bilbo’s breakup, our relationship solidified. I still remember being on Facebook checking my messages regarding my psychology assignment and annotating documents with a classmate.

Bing, a small box flickered with the message “Hey… do you have a minute?”

“Sure, lemme finish this last paragraph for my assignment… What’s up?”

“I’m not okay”

I quickly type out my paragraph and told my classmate that we could meet up in the morning if there was anything we missed. It was 12 am after all.

“What’s going on Bilbo?”

Before I know it, all I hear is a steady cadence of the distinct Facebook bings ensue and the messages start flooding my mini message box.

I had to move to the full screen message screen so I could keep up with Bilbo’s vent. I didn’t need to see how hurt he was. I didn’t need to see how blood shot red and strained his eyes were. I didn’t need to hear how hoarse his voice was. I didn’t need to know how he was fighting to stay sane. I didn’t need to see him trembling. It was heartbreaking.

Bilbo went from anguish to hate to sadness to confusion. His words came unfiltered, raw with emotions. His girl had been caught cheating with another senior who she had been seeing for a while. Her sister and mother had to tell him to leave their home because his girl didn’t have the decency to talk to her man. Bilbo told me how he pleaded to talk to her. The anger, frustration, and sadness he tried to hide as he stood in front of the door late at night. He was amazed he was able to make it home in one piece.

What did I do wrong? Was the prom tickets not enough? Were the meals not delicious enough? Was it because I was going to college? It is because I didn’t give her enough space? Too much space? Was I not good in bed? Not enough of a man? Sugar, what’s wrong with me?

I had heard rumors about his girl sampling herself to other guys but I knew her sister and both, or so I thought, weren’t stupid enough to act openly that stupid. I’ve seen some stupid things in my life and I guess I was still giving Bilbo’s ex the benefit of the doubt because her sister and I were close.

It’s hard to imagine that, his guy sincerely believed that he found his mate. A girl that was everything he wanted and needed from a partner and more. Someone he would give his all for. Speaking in terms of “we” and “us” became normal. Future plans became regular.

All of this was shattered, thrown in his face, and made him bleed every drop of happiness and hope he had ever developed.

I drive over to pick Bilbo from his supposed best friend’s house. He always stays at his place when he comes to So Cal to visit. I had to ask him why he’s always at his friend’s place. I understand that Bilbo’s parents live in different parts of So Cal but he’s down here to visit no?

“His parents and I are super close, they always call me up and ask when I’m coming down and offer their place to me so why not?”

“Well, as long as you don’t feel like you’re intruding, I guess it’s okay. I personally would feel a bit odd about staying for more then a couple of days.”

“I hear what you’re saying, but no worries. Plus my best friend is hardly home anyways.”

“Oh? why is that?”

“Oh, he’s dating my ex!”

Hold up. You’re best friend is dating your ex.. THE ex that basically threw your emotions on a rollar coaster that frequented a black hole and the occasional delusional thoughts that made you question if you were enough of a Man? You’re staying at the same “best friend’s” house who was there to console you and help you up from your heartbreak. Who reassured you that you did nothing wrong? Are you kidding me?


 He starts laughing and continues, ”  Yeah, my ex was cheating on the girl from high school with my best friend! I hate it but I still love him.”

You say that but why do you’re eyes look so hurt. Why is that smile so forced and tense? Why won’t you look at me when you laugh. Why are you lying to yourself? Why are you doing this to yourself?

I just look at him

“He’s getting a whore but as long as he’s happy”

Why do you say things you don’t mean? I hope you don’t change. I hope you don’t start viewing women as things. I hope you don’t become a player. I hope you don’t become afraid to commit and love again.

I hope you don’t forget who you are inside.

I chuckle. Not at the fact that he admits that his “best friend” is getting a whore and spitting in Bilbo’s face, but because this whole situation and Bilbo’s mentality is so messed up.

The large,grey, cumulus clouds block any trace of the blue sky and a cold breeze us as we get out of the car. An ominous chill slithers down my spine. Bilbo grabs my waist and pulls me close.

“You look like a pickle” and laughs.

I smile. Breakfast should be interesting today.


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