You know your drunk when you go into the toilet, lock the door, and then look around check whether there's anyone else in there with you.

His imagination was the first to blame
untamed thoughts of a far off dream
when they first met.
Her cold messages and warm eyes sent mixed signals,
His mind only vaguely engaged, initial dreams dwindled,
And they do not meet for near another month...

Then, as fate or chance or God would have it,
his friend moves out,
And she moves in next door, and he helps out,
And she has pizza, and is naturally curious,
But shy.
And the week begins.

He goes to bed, but waits awake.
She asks if he's still awake, and he's not really, but he says yes anyway.
So they talk on that first night,
Perfect conversation? No. But easy, and natural.
Then HE calls, though he does not know it yet.
God likes to play with him, knowing he will make assumptions,
knowing he will suffer his first punch soon, so he lets him dream.
And he is happy when he sleeps.
For she was not rude, she did hang up her phone to say goodnight to him.
On that first night.

And on that second night, after a good day,
he remembers it well...
She said those words he's heard thrice now,
from different girls
whom God sent his way to test his heart,
those words which should
for any normal man
end the dream and start
A Good Friendship.
"...my boyfriend said..."
But still his heart wouldn't fully accept it.
And they had coffee.
And they watched a movie.
And they talked
more.

Now lets skip through the week, for his heart is still weak.
Up the hill for Sunrise. A Coffee. A Sunset. Dinner.
And they watch another movie.
And they talk.
And one night, she says 'Life is really about caring for other people'.
And he remembers it well, when she asked him about pure moments.
He remembers wishing that conversation would last for ever.
And she went to bed, but not before thanking him.
For what?
She did not say.
How had he touched her?
He wished he could tell.

And there was the poem he showed her,
written to him by another girl whom he loved but couldn't have,
for the same reason.
And he tells her it's sorta about her too,
And though she asks what it's about,
he doesn't want to tell her,
lest telling her makes the "couldn't have" part final.
When he feels there is still hope.

And another night there was that long call from HIM,
and afterwards she said
'Lets go to the roof.'
For what?
'Because you need some air.'
And he helped her up, and she kept her hand in his for
a few seconds longer
than was quite necessary.
And they sat, and talked, and thought.
And his heart was lost.

And perhaps
He wanted what she could not give
And perhaps
She wanted what he would not say
For he was frightened of how silly he'd look
To dream so much
When she was Just a Good Friend.
And when she had been with HIM for 13 months.

And the final dinner was good, and funny.
And the final walk was different, and memorable.
And the final... Oh shit, HE's calling again.
That's it, he want's out!
He tells God to stop playing with him,
For a week he's been clenching his fists
frustrated at this fate.

All he can think is
"So close to her yet so far,
Just leave me alone, I'll settle for far!"
So he distances himself,
and goes to the roof
alone.

And he sits, and thinks, and slowly
slowly
he frees himself.
She isn't that amazing, really.
It's just a week, really.
And anyway, surely she sees it as
Just Good Friends.
Head calms heart.
And with music, and an open shirt
and a cool wind and an open sky
he reaches out,
smiles,
and is happily free...

Almost.

For when he returns after an hour (it's now 2am)
her door is still open, her light still on.
She is not on the phone.
What's this?
She cares.
But why?
Probably just being friendly, of course.
Probably just waiting to say goodnight.
But actually waiting. Why?
And his heart swells again.
And his head gets lost.
And it's so sad: because he was so close to freedom.

So they begin to watch a movie
He has had Pepsi!
She is too tired.
And she goes to bed.
Saying
'It's like the movie Lost in Translation!'
And he thinks DUH! and says:
'But you don't like that movie.'
And then wishes he hadn't said that.

And on the final morning, now this is the killer.
He wakes her, and they sit.
And they think.
"I'll miss this week" He says.
"I'll miss you" She says.
Just Good Friends.
"We should have got up for sunrise."
Just Good Friends.
"I'm glad you came to India."
Just Good Friends.
"Noone else could have been there for me this week
like you were."
Just Good Friends...

And I'm leaving, and I hug her.
"Your heart is beating fast!"
Damn right it is.
And I get my bag, and go to hug her again.
And this time I kiss her on the cheek.
And then I get into the metal lift.
And curiously, as I leave, she puts her hand on the cage, and calls
my name.
Did she care? Was it
Just a joke? Just Good Friends.
Or Just a Dream...

And he left the city.
But not without shedding a tear, for an ironic week.
And he called her before she left too, and they talked for an hour.
And though he thought of her often,
He was calm, and happily distracted by big adventures in big cities.

But now he arrives back to his city
And shes everywhere.
Shes on the bed, chatting.
In the kitchen, writing.
On the hill at sunrise, sitting.
In these streets, walking.
On his mind, smiling and laughing.

And she does call, but only to find out about his adventures.
Not because she really cares.
"I couldn't be bothered getting internet"
Just Good Friends can be out of contact for a while,
it's ok.
But he had emailed her every few days.
So after that evening online and a meaningless chat
and no feedback or replies
he gave up with the emails.

And he has a bad week.
But slowly it gets better.
Typically, some hours it doesn't matter.
Others, its distracting.

And messages that defy interpretation fly.
She says she'll call,
But doesn't.
And she says she wants to be back in the city,
But probably just to escape home,
and to see HIM again.
Not because she really misses him like he does her
voice,
and eyes,
and kindness,
and peaceful, natural company.

And still my heart won't let go of that week.
It will remain open until the door is tight shut and the light gone.
Then I'll try to be happy and at peace again
and,
(as fate or chance or God would have it)
Just Good Friends.

:-)

NA, June 2008