Page 61 of Friendzone Hockey
Entry 47
This is day two of trying to write something deep. I didn’t even have a nightmare last night. I just wanted to be near you. With you. You didn’t question when I opened your duvet and crawled in. Your arms slid around me. I could do it forever, Stace. I’d be happy forever being yours.
Entry 48
Okay, day three. Deep thoughts aren’t coming. You’re on my mind. I want to tell you how I’ve been feeling, but I’m so fucking scared. I’m not even worried that our friendship would be in jeopardy. We’ve experienced this awkwardness before, but we got through it. I’m worried you’ll tell me you don’t feel the same way anymore. That I’m alone with the way I love you. But there’s a bone-bruising ache in my chest. It gets worse when you touch me. I don’t know how much more of it I can take. I used to think those old Emily Bronte-type books were crazy. Who goes mad because they’re in love? But I am. Slowly driven to the brink because you’re right there, but I can’t have you.
Entry 49
Here’s a deep thought. You, so fucking deep inside me we can’t tell where I end, and you begin.
Entry 50
I’m going to do it. I’m going to tell you.
Entry 51
I didn’t.
Entry 52
Still no.
Entry 53
Maybe I shouldn’t. I’m having second thoughts. Third thoughts. Things are pretty awesome how they are. And I thought of something today that I can’t unthink. What if I tell you, you say no, and you stop letting us be us? Technically, we can be friends without the cuddling. Without the soft touches. Without your hands in my hair. We can still be friends and hang out less. But losing what we have, the magical “this” I can’t quite name, would kill me.
You just noticed the look on my face and asked me if I was okay. We’re on the couch together, and I’ve got my feet in your lap. One of your hands is resting over my toes, keeping them warm. I said I was fine, but I know you don’t believe me. Knowing you, you’ll fish the answers out of my brain later, and because I’ll feel so safe in your arms—because I will be in your arms—it’ll pour out of me.
Please don’t say no.
Please don’t feed my heart to the wolves.
Entry 54
My mom stopped loving me one day. I get it now that I’m older—she wasn’t well, and her brain played tricks on her. I didn’t know that as a little boy. I only knew what it was like to have her push me away when I tried to snuggle with her. What itfelt like when she’d scream at me for the smallest inconvenience. When she’d tell me what a worthless little boy I was and she wished she had a better child.
That hurt less than this.
Entry 55
I hate you right now. I hate you so much. But I can only hate you this much because I’m desperately in love with you. That’s how it works. Only the people you love can wound you like this. The worst part is, I can’t even be away from you now that you know. I cling to you maybe more than before. Please don’t ever push me away. This already hurts so bad, knowing that you don’t feel like I do. I’m just … confused as hell, Stace. How do I get you to understand—we belong together. Yeah, I’m a little broken, and yeah, I’ll always have scars, but I know what I feel for you.
Entry 56
It’s been weeks since I’ve written. I know you don’t check this, so I’ve lied every time we sat down to write, telling you I had, doodling so it looks like I’ve been writing, but I haven’t. I don’t like lying to you—and I don’t make a habit of it—but I need space from you and don’t want anyspace from you at the same time. My only option is this weird limbo, where I pine over you while I’m right the fuck beside you.
Dirk’s pissed at you. He wants to pound on you. I begged him not to be a dick, but he’s always been the brother I never had and so it’s hard to say if he’ll listen.
Entry 57
We fought again today. I hate fighting with you, but at the same time, fighting with you is something. I know arguments between us aren’t a new thing. Frankly, a real passionate fight gets my dick hard. I don’t mind that so much, except for the part where we don’t get to have the make-up sex.
I guess I get something close to it. Marathon snuggle sessions.
But fuck, Stace. It would be so hot. So fucking hot.
Anyway, you’re a dumbass, you know that? You’re a dumbass for not choosing me. For letting the past ruin our future. I love you too much to fight with you about it anymore.
