This Is Kind of a Funny Story

Hey missed me yet??…I know u did (in my mind). So 'This is kind of a funny story'…seen the movie? Yeah…. it shares some form of similarity with the title of this piece.


“I don’t know what about her that caught my eye. I noticed her the minute she walked into the room. And in subsequent weeks, I couldn’t help but keep stealing glances towards her direction. A part of me kinda knew we might end up being friends but the sinister side hoped we would  share something even more memorable together. We’ve been friends for quite a while now and one would think the desires will fade with each passing day. They haven’t. They’ve refused to. Instead, I find myself falling deeper and loving stronger. ‘Am I insane?’ I often ask myself, or am I just one of the accursed? Have I gotten myself in trouble once more by falling helplessly in love and not being able to do anything about it or even worse, with someone who can never phantom the depth, much less love me as little as a fraction in return…”

These words are an extract…. An extract from a note I stumbled upon (one which I definitely wasn’t supposed to see). It’s a note detailing a friend’s hidden affection for me. While it is immensely complimentary to be adored by a man and often thrilling to watch him keep up with the chase, it is unbelievably flattering to have a girl nuts about u. Don’t get me wrong now… i love guys and the ideals of a conventional boy-girl relationship.

In retrospect, I think I noticed she acted different around me. Sometimes a bit too excited and at other times overly subdued. I could never really understand such extremes and even when I tried to probe, she  would simply say “it’s nothing I can say… its nothing I will be accepted for”. The other day at my place, she just stared… gazing right in my direction, but with no specific term that could be used to describe the emotion I thot I had seen for a fraction of a second. In just a minute, I had seen expressions change rapidly from an innocent smile to a look that resembled dejection. She just looked forlorn. At other times, she was gentle, very calm around me and almost mistakenly taken as timid. She would tell me stories about two lovers and how the one was simply lost for words around the other and would rather enjoy the time spent with her. I remember her whispering “you take my breath away” a number of times (but that’s typical of her - we all know her to think aloud most of the time).

I particularly recall a certain evening… we were to go for a cocktail: one of such events that multi-nationals host. I got ready and gave her a quick buzz cos apparently, the one who is known for always being on time was unusually late. Then I saw her and immediately understood why she had delayed. She had paid so much attention to detail. Her nails had been cleaned and the scent which must have been carefully selected was used in such modest quantity. The gator lines on her shirt were almost perfect as she stood there…, as if waiting for her evening’s date. Could she have done this because of me…? Taken out time to dress up for the evening solely because of me (I flatter myself). She hardly said much and as usual, I broke the silence. I tugged her with my elbow and tried to squeeze out as much as a frown, smile or at least a word from her. She turned right to me and blushed effortlessly. She held my hands lightly and told me she cared…cared about our friendship.

It’s amazing how the tiny pieces of a puzzle all begin to come into place just by a single revelation. A simple note.  A profound confession. Now I understand better… how could I not have noticed? For some reason, I thought she was naïve, repressed. Now I know better and would wait for her to tell it to my face. What if….. what if she denies it. What if she doesn’t deny it but laughs to my face telling me that it’s a play she’s been writing for: cos indeed she does write for a famous theatre. What if all I read was only fiction???? As fictitious as this very piece.