Is It Too Late To Ask

Stench of alcohol and weed was in the air that day. Small groups of people kept pouring in as time was slowly passing by under the summer heat. She was among them, tagging along with some friends. Always on the go, ready to see what life has to offer.

“Have we met before?” He asked.

“I don't know, but I get that a lot,” she replied with a smile.

People were pulled to her by some enigmatic feeling of familiarity; a feeling of inner comfort from the aura that enveloped her. The same feeling he was desperately searching for.

Life wasn't easy for either of them. Burdened by grief; with their own story to tell. They were drawn to each other.

Shared struggle binds people, and that it did.

…

A few weeks have passed since they got together. Last bits of summer were already on the horizon.

Emotionally unavailable, incapable of serious commitment. Nevertheless, they were drowning in the intoxicating comfort of each other's embrace.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, resting on his shoulder.

“At ease,” he answered after a short pause.

“I feel… safe, with you,” he followed.

He tried to remember the last time he ever felt this way; futile effort. She's the only one who brought true comfort to his restless mind.

His focus briefly switched to the surroundings. Her apartment was… a mess. However, every tiny detail just made perfect sense. Organized chaos, she called it. Everything tied up together into an irresistible feeling of home.

Overwhelmed by this long-lost sensation of belonging, he pulled her closer into his firm grasp.

…

With time, rains and winds slowly grind mountains to dust. Same way assumptions and overthinking destroy the fragile fabric of comfort. Brewing fear and doubt; nurturing false hope and unjust concern.

As time went by, they were seeing each other less often. Pulled in the opposite directions by the whirlwinds of life.

Rainy Autumn days leave a lot of space for self-reflection. And on one such day…

“What do you mean?” He asked in confusion.

“I value our friendship too much to taint it with anything else,” she replied; confident in her decision, but still feeling smothered by the uncertainty of what will follow.

They never expressed any feelings or intentions towards each other. Just going with the flow. And the flow led them here. Stranded on the shores of ambiguity.

“Let's just stay friends,” she said.

“I'm afraid we will ruin everything if we keep going,” she added.

…

Friendship, as genuine and empathic as it may be, is still… just that. You can cry with a friend, ease your struggle, and share the joy. However, friends are not meant to share a truly intimate connection; lovers embrace; eternal affinity.

And no matter how many friends you have, the pursuit of intimacy will keep driving you towards new connections. Keep you moving forward; moving on; leaving people behind.

Days turned into weeks. Autumn melancholy lazily shapeshifted into Winter apathy. They drifted apart, slowly but surely; an inevitable reality; an undeniable fact.

They knew how to move on after a breakup, but no one taught them how to grieve a friendship.

…

The pub was crowded, as usual. Winter nights bring people together; looking for comfort at the bottom of a drink. An ocean of ever-changing faces, drawn to the bar table in search of intimacy. Same search that brought him there.

A cold gust from an open door rushed through the room.

“Table for two”, he heard from a painfully familiar voice. No matter how deafening the surroundings were, he immediately knew; it was her.

Lively as always; spreading her endless light anywhere she goes. Still on a go; ready to welcome what comes her way. She stood near the entrance, trying to shake off the outside cold.

Another embraced her the same way he once did.

As she was glancing over the room, her sight fell on him. Their eyes met.

Not a word was shared between them. No words were needed. Everything that had to be said was already carved into their memory. Nonetheless, a burning sensation kept lingering in their hearts.

Jointly their minds were overflown with the same question. Seemingly easy, but impossible to answer. Recklessly wishful, but ultimately too late to ask.

Question - “What if…”

…

“What if we… just fucking tried.”