Fragile

By Neal Debreceni

To her, she was the center of his universe. To him, she was an entertaining diversion, someone to hang out with, but not to be allowed to get in the way of the real fun of the evening. This is all she would ever be to him. She thought she was so much more.

Their relationship was invulnerable. He was her idea of perfection, a Greek god gracing her with his presence. Her spirit was beautiful to him, an angel above the touch of man. All she wanted was a boyfriend of her own. All he wanted was a boyfriend of his own.

She tried many tactics to become more than just a friend to him. He resisted them all. When she tried being classy, he asked her who died. When she tried being sensual, he called her a hussy. When she tried wearing jeans and a T-shirt just like one of the guys, he thought she looked cute in that “lesbian wannabe” kind of way. He, of course, didn’t really notice what she thought of his clothing.

Night after night, she tried to attract his gaze from the guys who surrounded him. Night after night, she went home alone while he went off with his new “special friend”. Sometimes she cried in her bed, aching from loneliness. Sometimes he cried in his bed, aching from something more visceral.

Finally, she confronted him. “Why don’t you love me?”

“Don’t be silly. Of course I love you. My life would be empty without you,” he replied.

“But why won’t you make love to me?”

“Because I’m gay.”

“How do you know you’re gay? Maybe you just need to meet the right woman.”

“How do you know you’re straight? Maybe you just need to meet the right woman.”

Crushed, she went home that night, vowing never to speak to him again. And she kept that vow, for about a week. But she couldn’t stand her life without the light he brought into it. She went out to the bars to look for him. Finding him, she cried with happiness, and begged for him to forgive her. He told
her it was already forgotten, and they hugged, and gossiped like old times. But all was not quite as it was before.

She still believed he was a Greek god sent to grace her with his presence. He believed she was an angel who had fallen from grace, with traces of ash on her wings. The joking and the camaraderie were not as carefree as it had been before. She still reveled in his company. Better to be with someone untouchable than to be alone. He was careful with his words. Better to be distant than risk leading her on or hurting her again. Their perfect friendship was now cracked, and although they didn’t know it at the time, they were waiting for it to fracture.