friends.jpg

再次聽到這句話,我並不驚訝。
因為,早從我第一次和她坐在一家咖啡店裡,
看著窗外狂舞的雪花,和迎面刺眼的銀白時。
我就知道,她會和我說這一句話,遲或早而已。
我只是在等,等那一天的來到,等那句話的降臨。
我為自己充分的做著準備,因為這次我不想再流淚。


當我的初戀雙手環抱著我的肩膀,
在我肩上,一面輕啜,一面在我耳邊輕輕的說

「我們還會是好朋友的」

我點了點頭,只要能見到妳,和妳聊聊天。
就是只能看著妳,觀賞妳像賞蓮花一樣,
我也心甘情願.....我想。

從那天紫色的夕陽溶入了夜幕後,
妳慢慢的教我什麼叫做朋友。

「朋友」 對妳來說,就是不會來煩妳的人。
越是不會打亂妳生活的,越是好朋友。
當然,妳需要幫助的時候,朋友一定要兩肋插刀。
可是事後也不要以為妳欠了我什麼。
反正,我是朋友,這些都是我的義務。

我頑暝不靈的不願意相信,那樣才是朋友。
我不時的打電話和妳聊聊,邀妳走走。
我以為,毫不保留的關懷,才是友誼。
可是妳的冷漠,眼神中的一絲絲厭煩,
和我眼神中偶爾忘記壓抑的愛慕時,對我毫不保留展現的憎惡。

一點一滴的殺死我的關懷,
一丁一點的切碎我唯一的心。

直到那天,我約妳一起去看場畫展,
妳電話中不情不願聲音再度切傷了另一個傷口。
妳珊珊來遲,我從滿是冰霜的鏡片後,
看到了妳挽著另一個身影。

「和你作朋友的意思,就是說我不想再見到你」

妳輕蔑的語氣,在寒冬裡為那破碎的心點上了一把火。
將它們焚燒成灰,直到我再也流不出一滴血淚為止。

呵,別怪我頹廢,別怪我消沉。
我所有的活力在努力治療我的心。
準備下一次的摧殘。


那位替我治好傷口的妳,
我以為妳會了解那句話對我的傷害。
沒想到妳只是換了一種語言,
對我做著同樣的欺騙。

「We will be better off if we are just friends,
   don't you think?」

Don't You Think 也許不是問句,
因為妳的尾音並沒有悠揚的提起。
好像是在命令我「不要想這句話的意義,照著做吧」
我不知道該感謝妳曾經幫我至好心上的那個創口,
還是該怨埋妳臨走時故意的把那傷口撕裂的更大。


Don't You Think.... Don't you DARE to think

生命中有太多事情,搞清楚了後只是讓自己迷失了生命的方向。
讓寂寞,孤寂,再度把我套牢。

這次,我有了充分的準備,
不會再陷入那美麗的謊言中,
也不會讓過去的回憶再度發膿。
當她一臉歉意的說

「我們還會是朋友吧?」的時候,

我對著她微笑,並不回答會不會,只說

「我了解」.......................





=========================================================================



When I heard the phrase again, I wasn’t surprised.
Because from the first time we sat in a corner cafe,
looking out the window, enjoying the choreography of the snow flakes,
I knew sooner or later she would say this to me.
I just have been waiting for that day to come, for that familiar phrase to visit.
I thought I was fully prepared, because this time I can’t want to shed a tear.

When my first love embraced me from the back,
lied her head on my shoulder, she was softly crying, and said to me

“We will still be good friends”.

I nodded my head. Just as long as I get to spend time with you, and talk to you,
even just get to look at you, like enjoying a lotus blossom, I would be satisfied..... So I thought.

Since that night, after the dark sky slowly devoured the purple sunset,
You began your lesson to me on what “friends” mean.

“Friend” to you, is someone who wouldn’t bother you.
The more I don’t disturb your life, the better a friend I am.
Of course, when you needed help, a friend would do anything for you.
But after words, that doesn’t mean you owed me anything.
I am your friend, these are my duties.

I am stubborn, I refuse to believe that is what you meant by being friends.
I often call you, ask you out for a walk.
I thought not being stingy with my care for you, is being your friend.
But in your coldness, your eyes showed frustration.
When I sometimes forgot to hide my true feelings in my eyes, you wouldn’t hesitate to show your resentment.

Drop by drop drowning my care,
Bit by bit cutting my only heart to pieces.

Until that day when I asked you to go to the exhibit,
The unwilling tone in your voice opened up another wound.
You came late, from behind the icy lenses,
I saw you holding on to someone else.

“What I meant by being your friend, means I don’t want to see you again!”

In that cold winter day, the despise in your voice, lit a flame to the broken pieces of my heart.
Burning them to ashes, until I can’t bleed one more drop of blood.

Ha, don’t blame me for being down, don’t blame me for being depressed.
I have used all my energy trying to mend my heart,
And wait for the next abuse.

You once healed my wound,
I thought you knew how much that phrase would hurt me.
But you just used paraphrased and told me the same lie.

“We will be better off if we are just friends,
   don't you think?”

“Don't you think” maybe wasn’t a question,
because you didn’t lift your beautiful tone at the end of the phrase.
Rather it was an order. “Don’t you think about what I mean, Just do as I say.”
I don’t know if I should thank you for mending the wound on my heart.
Or blame you for tearing that would even bigger on purpose when you left.

Don't You Think.... Don't you DARE to think.

There are too many things in life, after understanding it, only gets you more lost in your directions, let loneness once again imprisons me.

That’s why this time I am truly prepared.
I will not fall in to that dazzling lie.
I will not let those memories in the past profess.
When she remorsefully said

“We will still be friends right?”

I just smiled at her, and didn’t answer the question. I only said

“I understand”............




=========================================================================




When I saw this short story under my folder, I was shocked. I remember writing it, but I don’t remember why. Every word hits me so hard, as if I left a warning to myself from the past. Looking at the file properties I found out I wrote this on November eighteenth, 1998. Then suddenly I remember why I wrote this.

It was that time freshman year when you told me you just wanted to be friends.

I was crushed.

I went home, feeling really bummed, so I did what I used to do to let steam off. Write.
I exaggerated a little bit, and made up some details. I just wanted to say how I feel.
I don’t think I truly understood what I was writing about.

Was I more mature 5 years ago to have the courage to just say “I understand”?
I guess not, because afterwards I still tried my best getting close to you. And eventually you returned my feelings. That was all miracle for me.

This time around, I really loved you. I truly understood those feelings I described 5 years ago. This time, you meant it when you said you just want to be friends.

I won’t get to go visit you. I won’t get to see you. I won’t get to talk to you much for that matter.

There are things I can not control. It feels like I knew they were on their way. Yet I am just as helpless when they happen.

To be honest with you, I still don’t know how you could do it.
Fell in love so soon, as if you’ve been waiting for it.
I talked to William a few days ago. His relationship ended 6 month ago.
Still he says he doesn’t want to look for someone yet, because he feels like he couldn’t be fair to her.

That’s exactly how I feel. Not like I can get a girl, but even if I could, I won’t be able to be fair to her.

I want to be your friend. I hope you will treat me like one soon. It’s funny how you always drop me when someone else is calling you, even when we were together. Now I am your friend, do I get to be let in now? Or I’ll always be the one that gets dropped off, just because I am me?
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