La Sua Principessa #1

[She watches him from her window, standing in all his beauty, feet planted firmly on the ground. His back faced the house permitting her to check him out without his knowledge. Her eyes start their journey from his shoes, he was always a guy that was into fashion, he knew what bests fit a style he aimed for, a great stylist she’d even dare to say. His legs, don’t get her started on his legs.]

His calves were sculpted, built, toned, to perfection. Even in jeans, its beauty can never be hidden. Similar to his calves, his quadriceps also knew how to steal the spotlight. They resembled a gently carved clay that made you stare in awe, made you want to feel it, yet, stop yourself from touching it. His back, perfectly designed to detail like he was a Greek God himself. I don’t know if it’s wrong to compare him to a Greek being because he’s Italian but I’m sorry.

His hair, that has to be my second favorite feature after his quads. He has long shoulder-length, curly hair that resembled honey in the sunlight, golden-ish-brown, soft and easy to comb out, and placed in my favorite hairstyle on him, mid bun, allowing his ruthless curls roam free yet stay in place.

Why is he still here?

He turns around facing the house, turns away, faces the house once more, then turns away again. He’s hesitant? Why? He’s always welcome to our home. Before questions begin to flood my mind, he reaches for his pocket and takes out his phone. Instinctively, I quickly pick up mine in the expectation that he’d call me. One 1-minute passes by and it hits me that he wasn’t calling me. I look back out and sure enough, he’s still there on the phone with who? A mystery being. I watch his mouth carefully, aiming to read out the words he’s saying.

“come glielo dico?” oh it’s Italian. Of course. But luckily for me, he teaches me his language. He said “how do I tell her?” Who? What? Who’s her? With being Azaiah’s best friend for 5 years, going on 6, as far as I know, I’m his only close female friend he talks to, the others aren’t close enough to talk to him. So me? What does he want to tell me?

“Azariah impazzirebbe!”. ME?! I’d freak out? What does he mean I’d freak out?

Throughout our 5 years of best friendship, he has only asked me 3 questions that had me freaking out. Oh, no-no-no. The 3 questions. The 3 questions! A few weeks back, there were 3 different days Azaiah asked me very unusual questions.

One day, he asked “ What would you do if I told you I got a girl pregnant”, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t hurt but I brought myself to reality. He’s a guy, he has needs, and again we’re not a couple I shouldn’t care. I gave him a look. I know he saw my hurt but I said “You’d make a great father Zaiah, I’m here to help you every step of the way”

Another day, he asked, “Azariah, Do you think I’d make a good boyfriend or father?” I was baffled by his question but I replied truthfully “Zaiah! Of course, you would! You're everything a girl could ever want and more, you uniqueness draws me to you so yes you’d make an amazing boyfriend or father”

The last day he asked “ what would you do if I told you I have someone I want to make my girlfriend” that day, I choked on my cupcake and felt my heart rip. He does perfectly well reading my emotions but that day I tried my hardest to cover them up and replied “Then I’d be happy you met someone that makes you happier than I” it broke me.

It makes sense now. All those questions, he wasn’t being weird he was preparing to tell me he has a girlfriend one that is probably pregnant too! How could I have been too naive, how could I not see this coming? Tired of thinking, which is a lie because I’m an overthinker, I turn out the lights and cover myself in my duvet. The duvet that I now need to get accustomed to. Anytime soon I’m going to lose my best friend to some girl so I might as well start loving the warmth of my duvet in place of Azaiah’s warmth.

I thought we were so great together? What about today? It was the celebration of our 5 years together as besties. We had a great time, he looked genuinely happy with me, he looked satisfied, I’m I not enough? I know I shouldn’t question myself because I am perfectly perfect the way I am but right now, I can’t help it. Maybe I overthought his every action. His little and over-the-top actions. Maybe I don’t know him as well as I thought I did, maybe I was blinded by my..my…my.. love? For him. I messed up. I set myself up for this pain. I had high hopes, way too high. Maybe I should’ve told him I loved him before it was too late. Maybe I should’ve but now what is done is done and I have to learn to move on.

Not caring about the tears that flowed greatly, I let myself fall asleep.