Favorite Friend

Bravado

In the following three days, I learn the entire playlist by heart. I listen to it in its correct order, then on shuffle, then a specific song on loop, until I feel like I understand what it's trying to express. Making playlists is Aaron's love language, and so that's how I treat it; a new language to learn, with lyrics that spell out his feelings and rhythms that echo his heartbeat. It's Aaron taking my hand, pointing it here and here and here, this is what you mean to me, this is what I'm too scared to say.

Every song is one piece of the story; our story, one of friendship that turned into lingering touches and too-long glances, heavy silences and lying awake recalling every detail of the day spent together. Combined, they form a confession, one that feels impossible but grows more and more insistent with every listen.

The thing that Aaron lays open feels too fragile in my hands, still shaky from everything that has happened. I don't want to fuck it up the way I did before, don't want to drop it and have to pick up the shards again. So, instead of running to his house right away, I text him: my face is okay. can we meet on Sunday?

He responds: i'd like that.

+++

One of the reasons I want to wait until the end of the week is that I have therapy on Thursday. This time, I don't just go there, I go there extra early, and bearing a gift; a little plant for Melissa's office in a bright red, polka-dotted flower pot.

My hands are shaking so bad I almost drop it when she appears in the doorway and calls me inside.

"Here," I blurt instead of a greeting, extending the flower to her. "For you."

Her eyes widen a little. "That really wasn't necessary, but thank you, Felipe! It's lovely."

I nod, my hands fidgeting at my sides now that they have nothing to hold onto.

"Come inside!" Melissa steps aside to let me through.

I silently walk past her and over to the bright yellow couch, where I sit with my hands folded in my lap, watching as she walks over to the windowsill where the rest of her plants are.

"Let's find a nice spot for you... There, perfect," she murmurs as she sets it down. Then, she turns around and walks over to her armchair.

I stay quiet as she sits and pulls up her notes on her laptop, almost jumping when she meets my eyes again. "Relax, Felipe." She smiles. "I'm not angry at you for skipping the last sessions. Worried, yes, but never angry. And I'm very happy to see you again."

"Me too," I say, my shoulders loosening almost imperceptibly at that.

"So, how was the bus ri-"

"I want to do this for real from now on," I blurt before she can finish her sentence. "I mean... Last time, you told me that in order for this to work, I need to open up more. I'm ready to do that now, I think."

Melissa sits up a little straighter at that. "That's amazing! Would you like to tell me about what happened in the last few weeks?"

I swallow, plucking at a loose thread in the bright orange pillow next to me. Finally, I meet her eyes again and quietly say, "I don't know if Aaron told you about it when you saw him, but... There was this thing at the party I told you about. We... we kissed."

She gives me an encouraging nod, the smile on her face never wavering.

"After that, I kind of panicked. Like, I had an anxiety attack, or something, where I threw up and everything and then..." I shrug helplessly, my throat tightening a little as I replay everything in my head. "The last few weeks were kind of rough. I was really anxious and I isolated myself from everyone, which wasn't very good for me, I think, and then I got into a fight with this guy named Bryce- I don't know, it was a lot. But even before that, things were kind of going to shit- sorry for swearing," I quickly say, but she only chuckles. "Uhm... I also brought this."