Can't Be Friends

From the edge of my bed I glanced at the alarm clock next to my bed 11:11, I rolled my eyes and sucked on my teeth, of course there was a reason why I was still awake. Besides, making a wish at exactly 11:11, was part of my many obsessive rituals. I closed my eyes tight and wished I could forget about him. Lies. My conscience whispered and I agreed. I didn't want to forget him, or the way I felt when he was around and even if I wished a million times that he didn't notice me it happened, he was aware of what I felt, how I felt it and when. I'd never really know if he saw me with different eyes, but I always had the feeling I wasn't indifferent to him. I knew my wishes were already wasted, his face was permanently etched in my mind since that night, for my own personal torture, just the thought of him made my pulse race and every fiber of my being would light up on fire. To say he took over every nerve in my body was an understatement. With his chocolate skin, brown eyes, pierced ears, neatly trimmed facial hair and muscular build sitting on a delicious six feet, one inch of pure finesse, Rico Watson had me dangling on the tip of each and every single one of his fingers without even knowing it. I glanced at the time again and angrily turned my clock over, the flashing red numbers only reminded me that I was supposed to be sleeping not wishing upon fallacies with my best friend's boyfriend. Ooh bitch...  My conscience butted in again, I rolled my eyes at it again and let out a deep breath. Believe me, I don't need your judgement, I'm fully aware he's one of the many people in the world I'm not supposed to fall in love with, it's a violation to social order and girl code not to mention. But sadly enough, for the past eight months my life has become an intense episode of 90210, I was pretty sure the hidden cameras were gonna pop out anytime soon. Worst part of this unrated, unrecorded sitcom? Rico and I worked for the same magazine, he was one of the senior editors at Elite magazine, where I happen to be a writer, my advice column 'Dear Luna' is one of the main attractions, following our fashion and socialite sections. I fought with my pillow, and tossed and turned trying to find a comfortable spot to finally fall asleep in, to no avail, Rico was all my mind was set on thinking about. I got out of bed and almost ran to the kitchen, poured some water in a kettle and set the kettle to boil, I reached up for my box of Celestial Seasonings chamomile sleepy time tea. The kettle whistled softly and I rinsed out my superwoman mug before dunking the tea bag and pouring the piping hot water over it, two teaspoons of sugar and I went back to my room, fired up my Macbook pro and began to type my feelings away. Forbidden Fruit: How to Fall out of Love with the One you can't have. In less than an hour I had a full blown article on falling for someone you weren't supposed to love, and the so called steps to get over them. I was confident that this article would never ever make it past my eyes and my "Never to be published" folder so I dragged the finished document into the folder, and drank what was left of my tea setting the mug on the nightstand, tea always worked for me. Tomorrow was bound to be a much better day now that I poured my heart out on the keyboard, my way of letting things out worked most of the time. I proofread the article one last time and let out a sigh, I closed the lid to my laptop, slipped between the covers and drifted instantly asleep with images of Rico in the back of my mind.