There I was. His arm was around me, I was trying to not squirm. I turned off the background noise and looked at him, really looked at him until I couldn't bear it any longer and I stared at the wall. With every breath I took in, I tried to muster up the courage no to simply breathe out again. When I finally let the words spill from my mouth, so did the tears spill from my eyes. And his were dry.
It was the hardest thing I have ever had to do, asking someone to be my friend, and he said, "I am trying to be your friend, Johanna, that's all I've been trying to do." I looked at the crinkles in my sheets, and I looked at the prints on my fingers, and I asked myself a question.
"Friendship is all that there is in this world," he told me. "Friendship is all you need to make it work." But it isn't. "You can do anything if you try hard enough. God answers prayers, Johanna, but then it's up to us to keep them going." I hated the way he used what once brought us together against me. That night I prayed to a God I'm not sure I believe in, and I asked for guidance. Guidance I have yet to receive. I know Icouldmake it work, but we wouldn't truly be happy. Friendship is the base of true love, but friendship does not replace it.
He told me that kind of love doesn't exist; the kind that grows butterflies in your stomache, where the sun shines whenever they are near, and you can't help but smile each time you think of them, where you feel like you are standing on top of the world. He told me "true love" is a lie. I began to wonder about every time "I love you" had escaped his lips. Then I started to cry again, and again he watched me through his waterless blue eyes.
When he walked down the hallway I noticed how nice he looked, and how he would never look that way for me again. As the door finally shut behind him I realized he will never again walk through that door.
I know that he blames me for not trying hard enough, but what he doesn't know is that when I wake, another face is on my mind. A face I've tried to push away so many times before.
As for what lies ahead, he's left me -or rather I've left myself- without a love or a friend, and with only black and white paints to make myself a picture.