Here we are again. In the usual corner. Usual table. Usual diner. Usual time. And most probably, usual meal. I’m getting tired of this really. Everything’s a routine. And for what it’s worth, you’re the only same old thing that I’m not tired of. But I’m tired of this. Having the same food for breakfast before we go to work.
“What are we really?” I speak first.
You give me a puzzled look.
I speak again. “You said we’re friends. But the things we do — the things I do with you — the thing’s I’ve done FOR you — and the things I’m so willing to do. They are things I don’t usually do with or for my friends.”
You reach for the menu and browse through it like you’re not hearing a thing.
“And the things you’ve done. They are things no other friend has done for me…. Are we really friends? Is that all we have? Friendship?”
You refuse to talk. You just sit there.
“Just friendship? That’s all we have?”
But I seem to be talking with myself. You give no decent reaction to the question I’ve long wanted to ask you. The question I think I’m wasting all my energy asking.
Disappointed, I release a deep sigh. You continue to pretend trying hard to decide what to have for breakfast when we both know you’ll be having the same old thing. You’re just avoiding the topic. So I just let go of it and try not to spoil this morning like it hasn’t been yet.
I change the topic. “You ready to order?”
“Sure. I’m starving.” Finally, your first words for today. It’s so clear how much you hate talking about that topic. Talking about us.
I call on the waitress, the one who’s always served us our meal. In fact, she knows our name and we chat when she’s not busy. We are regular customers. She approaches our table.
“What are you two having?” Her tone sounds like she never really has to ask for she knows exactly what food we are gonna order.
You put down the menu, look at the waitress, smile, then turn to me. And say, “Something more than friendship.”
(I swear I heard the waitress say “I know, ‘right.”)
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