A Lift

A Lift

A car zoomed by us as we were walking down the street. The rain had already reduced to a slight drizzle, making the already cool night colder as the wind blew gentle breezes at indefinite intervals. I looked up at the night lamps dotting the street, the night life now turning in to welcome the start of a new day.

I lowered my gaze down to my right and smiled when they rested on the ball of bundled nerves. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t help myself.

Kanoa- the Free One. That was her name. At 5 foot 4, she was a head and a neck shorter than me, though that did little to hide her fiesty attitude. Her long, curly ebony hair tumbled around her, bouncing off at her elbows as she walked. Her gaze was down, the lower half of her face covered by the scarf around her neck. She hunched a little, her fists balled tight in the pockets of her jacket.

That was her way of coping when things went wrong. That was how she behaved when she couldn’t help but cry because she was so overwhelmed by the emotions locked up inside of her.

I knew the routine.

Once she’d silently cried her heart out, she would stop, look up with her eyes closed, take a deep breath and expel all the negative energy from her body. Then, she would look at me and smile the smile that didn’t reach her eyes, the smile I knew that she knew that I knew was fake, and tell me that she was okay now. She would then thank me for being there for her tonight and then we would head on home.

But I knew that she won’t be okay. She never was. She would just file this experience into her “Things To Not Think About” folder and carry on, just like she always had.

Was this strength? Or weakness?

With her, I could no longer tell. That line had blurred a long time ago.

The only thing I could do was listen to her. While I was glad that she’d only ever shown me this vulnerable side of her, I wish I could do more.

But I could never be more than just the best friend. That was something that we had established, and it was a balance that we refused to risk upsetting.

This was comfortable, good, and most importantly, safe. And safe was good.

Safe was best.

That would all be good if I didn’t have the urge to reach out my hand to her to tell her that everything will be okay.

That would all be good if I didn’t feel like punching the demons that have been assaulting her and giving her a fucked-up life.

That would all be good if I didn’t feel like ripping apart the fuckers who have hurt her time and time again.

That would all be good if I didn’t feel like holding her in my arms and catching her tears one by one, making her feel safe for once.

That would all be good if I didn’t feel like holding her face and telling her that she shouldn’t have to hide her tears, at least while she was with me.

That it was okay to show me how she really felt.

That I could accept that side of her.

But I couldn’t.

I was her best friend.

I couldn’t cross that line.

All I could do was watch her and give her support from a comfortable distance. That was all I could allow myself to do.

Could she tell? I’m pretty sure she could. I know that because she hasn’t been telling me a lot of things recently.

At long last, she stopped walking. I took two paces and then stopped. She needed her time.

“I’m sorry I’m always like this,” she softly spoke.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to apologise.”

No, you don’t. Don’t apologise for being human.

“I hate myself for being so weak.”

“That’s not true.”

You are not weak.

“It’s true. Why is it that I am the only one who doesn’t get it? Everyone else seems to be okay playing Happy Family! Why can’t I be like that too?”

“There will always be a black sheep in the family. Unfortunately, for your family, it’s you.”

You are unique.

You are special.

You see things through a different lens.

And it’s okay.

It really is.

She raised her chin, her neat brows knitted as her watery brown eyes bored into mine.

“We were all born and raised the same so why? Why am I so different, Dylan? Why am I the only one who cannot do things for the sake of it? Things would be so much easier if that was the case.”

“Since when did you take the easy way out? What, you lost your spark already?”

Be brave.

You are a gem.

You sparkle brighter than any of them.

Don’t dull your light just to fit in.

“I’m just so tired of all this crap. I just want to live life truthfully. Is that so difficult?”

“You already know the answer to that question.”

She looked to the heavens, her eyes pressed with a familiar invisible weight on them.

I had to be impartially truthful and honest with her. There was no other way that this friendship could work anymore.

“This is why I don’t wanna be dependent on people. It hurts too much when they kill your expectations.”

Okay, this has gone far enough. I walked towards her, bent down, placed my arms around her hips, and lifted her up into the sky. She screamed and clutched onto my neck, her body shivering from the cold or the fear, I didn’t care. I had to knock some sense into her.

“Bastard! Put me down! You know I can’t stand tall places!” She buried her face next to mine, her arms clinging for dear life.

“I know. I’m not letting you down.”

“WHAT?! Put me down! Please put me down! I’m gonna fall!”

“I won’t let you fall.” Trust me.

“I’m gonna die!”

“I won’t let you die.”

Please trust me.

“Ohmygodohmygodohmygod pleasepleaseplease!” Oh, for fuck’s sake.

“Who was it who said she didn’t wanna be dependent on people?”

The tremors and murmurs of impending doom stopped immediately. She shifted her head, glaring at me with as much ferocity as she could muster in her panicked state.

“You did this on purpose, didn’t you?” Accusation and hurt laced her low timbre.

“Yes. You see, no matter how strong you think you are, you need to depend on people. You never know when you might need their help. Like now.” I couldn’t help but smirk at her. It’s amazing how menacing she could be even while looking like a frightened kitten.

“You’re not gonna put me down?”

“Not until you take it back.”

“What?”

“You know what.”

“You’re so mean.”

“I know. It’s your call.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

“You can. You just don’t want to.”

“That’s not true.”

“It’s true and you know it. I know you do.”

She turned away and pouted, the way she always did whenever she was in a fix. I’m pretty sure it’s an unconscious habit, but I never told her about it. That would make her very self-counscious.

“Mrrrmm mrrm mrrrm.”

“Hmmm?”

“I mrrmm mrmm mrrrm.”

“I don’t speak cat.”

With a sharp turn, she faced me, her nose just a breath away from mine. Her eyes, the exact colour of honey in the candlelight, pinned me with the raw emotions reflected in them.

“It is difficult. For me.”

“I know.”

I remember.

“What if I become too needy?”

“I’ll slap some sense into you.”

I won’t let you feel unimportant.

“I don’t wanna bother people.”

“If they’re really your friends, they won’t think you’re a bother.”

She closed her eyes, inhaled deeply, and exhaled slowly. Another habit of hers to calm in stressful situations.

“Okay. I’ll try.”

With that, I let her down. She took a step back and adjusted her clothes. Her spark had returned, and that’s all that mattered.

“Great! You game for ice cream?” She smiled her usual I’m-over-this-now-so-I-need-a-treat smile, the one that accentuated her cheekbones and put the bright twinkle in her eyes. Damn, that smile’s infectious.

“What? It’s already 4 in the morning! Don’t you have work tomorrow?”

“Nope, I have the day off. You?”

“Same.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“You’re gonna catch a cold.”

“Only idiots catch the cold.”

“That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“So it doesn’t matter, right? Come on!” She grabbed my forearm, and pulled me forward, leading me with her hair flowing in the wet rain.

I followed, as I always had. She released my hand and threw me a grin over her left shoulder.

Once, I would have blatantly grimaced when she touched me. Now, I didn’t.

Why?

I didn’t even know.