The guy sitting next to me was counted as one of my friends, of those with whom they could never pass anything or Urge or by intoxication.
about various things, until we got to where we started to laugh on our latest forays into romance. Which of the two most fatal, futile, silly and ridiculous. So bad had come to begin to remember "better times" as our own words, spicy stories of suffering, glory and satisfaction.
The conversation flowed between comments like "do you remember when you were mad about that girl you met on the beach ?..." or" do not know what that guy you saw at that time the pub ... "until we reach the point where we remember those great stories and the comments were the type. "Remember you told me about it all day?" And "Remember all the money spent on the phone calling."
Accompanied by various liquids spirits and sparkling conversation took different directions, we started to laugh and remember the highest private things, we started to reminisce about the great history of it, that girl that had stopped next time the gang, which had left to get drunk until he lost consciousness, he had met the domestic domain of life. The story had ended so badly that the girl was never mentioned by his real name on the monthly sprees, it was only called in whispers "
"Do not worry ... Besides, who has not passed?
-I left many things for her, I would have left everything to her, would have done anything I asked. But I cheated and used me, it just makes me feel stupid, but also miserable. And the mixture of both feelings is ... - shook hands in front of him trying to find a word bad enough to describe their state.
- "deplorable, horrible, painful, pathetic? - I said trying to help.
-sick ... Now I realize how screwed I was, and think that I loved.
"That kind of things are not decided.
"And if we decide not us, who then?
"You deserve someone better, much better, someone who cares about you and love you really.
- Why do not I like you? - said with a smile like the most brilliant idea that had happened in the last time.
I stared for a moment, I saw his face, his dark eyebrows and brown eyes, the mole on his forehead and his beard a couple of days. His hair a little longer than usual. I remembered his sense of humor so similar to mine, I remembered the feeling of holding hands mine and confirmed that although he wanted with all my heart, I did not like.
"Because you have bad taste- replied with a smile.
He is someone good, someone I trust and whom I admire. I've known him before entering adolescence, but my fucking hormones do not move one iota for it. Sad, because I have the certainty that my life would be much easier if he was the one I liked.
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