I'm not trying to sound like a loner, or a hermit, or whatever you want to call me. That's just how I am. When I meet someone, it takes me a while to trust them. If I come to find that an impossibility, I go back to polite nods from across the room. I don't need excess drama in my life.
So, a boy named Ryan and his family moves to town. We become friends. He starts to like me.
We're friends, and he's trying to make things complicated. I know this can't end well. I don't like him that way....Nevertheless, I stupidly agreed to date the boy who (for some strange reason) likes me. I just figured "he's my friend, what can it hurt?" I admit, there also may have been a bit of "let's get this first boyfriend thing out of the way" in there too.
I made it all of eleven days before I couldn't take it anymore. I just couldn't let myself mess with his feelings like that, like I was leading him along or something. I can't hurt a friend that way.
This dating thing happened two years ago, but he still likes me, I know he does, even if I don't understand why. I was too much of a coward to even dump him to his face, so I did it by Facebook, but I told him that we could still be friends. Which, as it turns out, is extremely difficult.
When my birthday rolled around last week, I stupidly decided to have some sort of party because 'I only turn 18 once', yeah? I should have known what would happen.
Out of the ten people I invited (it was surprisingly difficult to scrape together that many people I could stand to be around for more than five minutes), two showed up. One of which was Ryan.
You may be wondering "why did you even invite him?" Well, I'll tell you. 'He's my friend'. That's what I kept trying to convince myself. That we could be friends.
The whole time he was being...difficult. Lots of (failing to be) inconspicuous flirting and all of that crap. When I was trying to win something from a claw machine in the arcade, he said "I got you a stuffed Elmo from one of these, remember?" Yeah. Thanks for the reminder. I think he's currently shoved underneath my bed.
He made it extremely awkward and I could tell Rachel (one of my few really good friends) felt bad for me.
After Rachel left, me and Ryan walked to the parking lot together. When we got outside, he said "Well, I'll see you later" with a smirk in his voice as he sauntered over to his moped, trying to look cool.
"Goodbye, Ryan" I called over my shoulder, not looking back as I got into my car, slammed the door and sped out of there. And I meant it. That was goodbye. I can't pretend that we can be "just" friends anymore when he is determined not to let that happen.
So we won't be friends. He'll just be another person I walk by without really seeing. I don't need any friendship bad enough to make myself miserable.