Ted was nice enough. A bit funny looking, but nice. Had a good sence of humor, he thought. Was unusual, but a good person all the same. Had a good friend.
She'd tell him about how things were going, about life, and spilling coffee on her new shoes turned into the places she used to go in the summer as a kid, and to that boyfriend he'd seen her with. Never liked him, and the tales she told painted a worse picture. Ted would listen as she'd cry, but he was always there. Listening, waiting for when they'd be able to laugh again. It would be worth it- They were friends. He'd do what ever she'd say- Because she'd give him a smile. He could never resist a smile.
He'd make it alright. He'd be better than that boy- He'd be a gentleman.
One day, she started talking to another man.
He bit his lip, tapping his foot anxiously. He wasn't quite sure why. They were friends.
Next day, it went farther. He started to loathe seeing the two talking. He wasn't sure why- And not sure why their time together started to grow larger as his shrunk. He clenched his fist in his pocket, walking away to throw out his empty bottle of pop. He told himself he wouldn't go back- When he made the mistake of glancing back at the two.
He'd stay- He'd be there again.
He was there still, waiting for her to turn to him. They were friends- And this bloke was big, tall and didn't have his sense of humor...
His stomach would twist as her new friend would take her arm and put it around his shoulder as she'd casually try and talk to a friend.
He didn't understand why- They were friends, that's all. That's all he wanted to be- Yet jealously clouded him, making him wonder...
One day, it was too much. He threw out his pop again, walked around the corner and didn't turn back.
He saw her again once across the street, alone.
"I'll make it alright," he whispered to himself, "We're friends."
She'd tell him about how things were going, about life, and spilling coffee on her new shoes turned into the places she used to go in the summer as a kid, and to that boyfriend he'd seen her with. Never liked him, and the tales she told painted a worse picture. Ted would listen as she'd cry, but he was always there. Listening, waiting for when they'd be able to laugh again. It would be worth it- They were friends. He'd do what ever she'd say- Because she'd give him a smile. He could never resist a smile.
He'd make it alright. He'd be better than that boy- He'd be a gentleman.
One day, she started talking to another man.
He bit his lip, tapping his foot anxiously. He wasn't quite sure why. They were friends.
Next day, it went farther. He started to loathe seeing the two talking. He wasn't sure why- And not sure why their time together started to grow larger as his shrunk. He clenched his fist in his pocket, walking away to throw out his empty bottle of pop. He told himself he wouldn't go back- When he made the mistake of glancing back at the two.
He'd stay- He'd be there again.
He was there still, waiting for her to turn to him. They were friends- And this bloke was big, tall and didn't have his sense of humor...
His stomach would twist as her new friend would take her arm and put it around his shoulder as she'd casually try and talk to a friend.
He didn't understand why- They were friends, that's all. That's all he wanted to be- Yet jealously clouded him, making him wonder...
One day, it was too much. He threw out his pop again, walked around the corner and didn't turn back.
He saw her again once across the street, alone.
"I'll make it alright," he whispered to himself, "We're friends."
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