Thursday, August 27, 2009

The Language of Irony

Back then, I look forward to conversations with him. Every time we talked, it was fun and refreshing. We never seem to run out of things to say. We just talk, about anything under the sky, of relationships, of troubles with family and friends, of the past, dreams for the future, uncertainties of the present.

Back then, I used to avoid even looking at her. When she opened her mouth to speak, I pretended not to hear. We would never speak directly to one another, some of the time, using another friend as a communicator between us. And if we really have to, strained conversations were held over forced smiles on our faces.

Today, we talked again. Haven't been talking with him in a long time. Topics were superficial, things you ask to avoid awkwardness with people you don't know very well. Why? We're just like strangers.

Today, we talked again. All of a sudden, all those misunderstandings from the past seemed so silly now. I don't even remember why we didn't talk before. She smiled and joked with me. I returned the sentiments. Nothing was strained as we simply just look at each other in the face, no more avoidance, and talk. Why? We're just like friends.

As it should be.

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