Eight years without you

Listening to: the soundtrack of De-Lovely
Watching: The Motocycle Diaries, again. God bless Gael Garcia Bernal.
Wanting to: read about Che Guavara, learn spanish, and use all the swearwords i picked up from the movie. Yo, punta madre!

I think Ali is avoiding me.
And it hurts.
Part of my paranoid brain thinks he's worked out that i have feelings for him, and his way of dealing with it is to avoid me as much as possible.
it doesnt make sense, i didn't even hang out with him at mariam's birthday party, we talked for less than five minutes and then moved around. i dont think i did anything to freak him out...

but there was this one moment.
I was sitting outside on the steps, it was too hot and the shirt was sticking to my chest, i needed to breathe, swinging my feet along the ledge, as the door opened and Lina the slut walked out laughing at him behind her. He looked up, saw me looking at him, and then just for me, he called out: "Give me a call, babe!" and then looked back at me and smirked.

I know him well enough to know that it was for my benefit.
Ali doesnt like her.
And he knows I dont like her. and maybe he caught me looking at him too hard, but in that instant i knew he wanted to piss me off.
Since then i havent seen him, even though I call him every now and then to say lets meet up what are you going tonight? but every time there is some lame line, some dinner he has to go to.

Ali is avoiding me. and i've come to realise that his friendship is so much more dear to me than the stupid earthshattering feelings i may have for him.
it's bad enough when he told me he would leave and not come back for eight years because of his job.

I tried to comfort myself with the thought that I could visit him, after all it's been ages since i went to london, but eight years is too hard to imagine without him in the picture every season, and i haven't told him everything i ever wanted to, the little things i have always kept, unwilling, unready, until i met him.

i thought he would come over and i would cook us some pasta, we'd put on Big Fish, i'd impress him with my knowledge of fairytales, and then i would start:
"when i was sixteen..."
and somehow everything would come and he would understand and love me more for being the only soul other than mine to share the burden of me.

But that will never happen because Ali is avoiding me, and soon he will leave, and I will be heavy.