Just Friends: Edge

"No..." I finally managed to get out. I could imagine her grinning, but I could not smile with her. "But I think you ought to know I have something to get off my chest. With someone else. Alicia...I can't go on with this conversation," I said abruptly, knowing very well I was going to greatly tick her off. "Uh... I have to go."

I put the phone down.

The conversation with Alicia showed me one thing: that nothing in my life would ever feel right until I tell Carla. That I could not feel an ounce of emotion for any other girl as long as my secret feelings for Carla remain locked in my heart. I had to go see her, and tell her. Screw the elaborate plan involving streamers and roses and silk. Nothing could be more elaborate and complicated as what lies surpressed within my heart.

I changed into a cleaner t-shirt and jeans, grabbed a rose and left my house. Downstairs, I flagged a cab, and began that uncertain journey to Carla's house.



It was 9 post-meridien as I sat in the taxi, when the rain started to fall. I looked out at the world outside the taxi. It was roofed by a night sky that was dark and foreboding, lit by flashes of lightning. Underneath the sky of black, however, were the city lights of urban Singapore - a neverending network of streetlamps, billboards and vehicle and building lights.

Within, my heart raced. My mind raced. My hands fidgeted. Doubts were fighting their way back into my cerebrum. Doubts - and guilt, for the way I had treated Alicia earlier. But I guess that was how much Carla really meant to me. I would gladly turn away a pretty lady who fancied me to see a pretty lady who didn't fancy me. Or maybe she does? I would know the answer to that in a few agonising minutes.

The cab arrived at a familiar t-junction. I instructed the cabbie to turn right and drop me slightly further down the road, placing me outside the house oppsite Carla's. I took a deep breath and I turned.

Carla was outside her house, walking with a guy.

They were walking, hand-in-hand.

They reached her gate.

She turned to him.

They kissed.

I thought I could feel the rose in my hand wilt and wither. I dropped it. The rose felt repulsive, having been intended to leave my hands to be in hers.

I turned away.

Later that night, I sat in my bed, surrounded by debris of streamers, silk and roses. I felt empty, aimless - incapable of crying and also painfully incapable of being apathetic.

The phone rang. It was Carla.

"Dude, Alan and I kissed today!"

My heart was hitherto held together by my solitude after witnessing the kiss. Now, it fell apart into a thousand emotional pieces.

I sobbed. Through it, I said, "Whoa, Carla! Not bad. I'm so...happy...for...you." Somewhere deep inside, I meant it. For Carla, I told myself.

For Carla.

And I knew, I would have to be telling that to myself for the rest of my life.

For Carla.