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Concealed feelings...Unconcealed!

Short story By: Nabs
Literary fiction



Al and me are true friends since childhood, but it has been a while since we grew close to each other and it took me a fraction of second to realize that maybe i was falling in love with him. I was not so sure of my feelings, but they say that distance speaks up the closeness between two people. One fine night, out of the blue, i resolved to speak out my heart, knowing that i was putting everything at stake. After that night, things would take another direction, and i was ready to face it. Call it my foolishness or the urge to get my dreams fulfilled!


Submitted:Dec 31, 2011    Reads: 28    Comments: 7    Likes: 3   


30th December 2011. The night was silent. All I could hear was the far away mechanic who was still working at this time of the night. The day had been long and wearisome. Preparations to welcome the New Year have been going on since the start of the month, but today was the 'closing' shopping day. Suffocating sunny day, mushrooming crowd and inexplicable rush on the streets of Port Louis added flavor to my day, and here I am, tired, heavy legs paining. I sat in front of my PC, surfed on the net quickly for the daily dose of social networking. Some casual hellos, replies to a few notifications, some stalking process and I was bored. Little did I know that this so-called boring night would turn into something I never expected. Of course, I did think about it, but I never ever thought that it would happen. Al was online and he wanted to chat. Nothing much unwanted or unexpected about it, because it is a common stuff between us. But that night, when it dawned on me that he wanted to chat, my heart skipped a bit. The chat window popped up with a funny sound that echoed in my ears.

"Hello sweety! U mind we talk on Skype, Lazy to type out here "
I stared at the screen, controlled my breath, noticed that the pace of my heartbeat was increasing slowly and then typed back:

"Hey hi! Uhh, Dad is in the same room, lets chat plz"
A tinge of guilt settled on my face, I lied beautifully.

I sat back, stretched my aching legs and hoped that he is as tired as me, so that this conversation ends quickly. One hour, another half an hour, another fifteen minutes, he talked and I listened, affirming my presence with a "hmm", "ok", "is it?" "lol", "haha". Boredom jabbed me, I thought of another lie to get out of here, but soon dropped this idea. All this while, he was recalling the moments he spent with his girl friend, the acrid ache she gifted him in return of all the love he gave her. From his words, I knew he was still hurt. Almost one whole year flew away, but memories are still sharp and clear. I lent him an attentive ear, shared his sorrows and gave him my support, as I usually do. This was my routine now, to listen to his stories and comfort him. That night, I wanted to run away. I no more wanted to comfort him and to reassure him that life is beautiful and he should live it, instead of holding on to his past.

But then, the conversation took another turn and became more interesting, which drew off my boredom. My fingers drove faultlessly on almost every key of the keyboard, thoughts turned into words, expectations were betrayed and words overpowered my feelings. The desire to spit everything out without bothering about the consequences flooded in my veins. The flow was so strong that nothing could stop it. I was determined to say everything. EVERYTHING. I controlled my breath, followed the pace of my heartbeat, until it seemed to be normal. I knew that I was putting everything at stake, my happiness, my peace of mind, his life, our relationship, the festive mood of the End of Year, but I was more than resolved to speak out. I am a complete jerk when it comes to speak out my heart without manipulating my feelings. I did think about speaking out to him, I even rehearsed for that matter, I knew that I would have to do that one day, but so soon, that was unexpected. I gathered my thoughts, concocted the right sentences and every time I felt my system going against this strong will of speaking out, I pressed my lips hard, swallowed a deep breath, held it down my throat and typed as fast as I could, and when I was done, I released the breath, reposed my fingers and glared anxiously at the screen for an answer. The belligerence of typing continued until everything I wanted to say was out of my system. That night, I told him everything, everything that was meant to be told. Snatching feelings from every corner of my soul, I opened up to him after very long time. I don't know whether I did the right thing. I don't know whether things between us will be more complicated after this night. I am lucky to have escaped the facial expression fuss and the face to face dilemma, though I know that I will not be able to flee from it for too long. I wonder how will I react when he will be in front of me and I will be forced to play the "as is well" role for him, for myself and for the family. While typing almost in a state of trance, while I noticed the letters appearing in stocatta on the screen, while I realized that things I never expected to utter were metamorphosing into tangible reality, my heart skipped thousands of beats. All I was aware of was me, my fingers which rushed on the keyboard, my feelings and him. I could sense the weight of my whole body on the tips of my fingers. Hands trembling, lips palpitating, words entangled with thoughts, what to say, what not to say, all came rushing down my finger tips. Every word was weighed, tailored, scrutinized and then delivered. I could not believe I had so much courage flooding down my spine. Part of my brain congratulated me for the wonderful performance I was at, but the other part literally screamed a peel of laughter at me to tell me what a big fool I was. Emotions were ambivalent, sometimes incomprehensible, memories were clear and sharp, fingers navigated through the keyboard faultlessly. I told him everything, everything that he was meant to know.

Al listened to me carefully, without interrupting me. His presence was marked by suspension points to encourage me to say more. I unleashed my concealed feelings, without caring about what will happen. I was putting at stake a whole year of wonderful moments we spent together, I was putting at stake my own happiness, knowing that rejection will lend me in a state of utter despair, not for long, but the point is that I will be welcoming New Year with a broken heart.





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