And every time she asks him if he’s okay, He lies.
Because he fails to look for the reason behind his exhaustion.
Is it the inflating menace around him, the empty wallet or the lonely nights, or a mistress who wouldn’t open up. Maybe it’s all piling up or maybe it’s something very different from all this.
He fails to figure out.
He looks at her sitting, smiling at yet sad. Nearly mirroring his state.
“Are you okay ?“, she asks with the most serene smile.
“Yes, “, he tries assuring her with a faint smile, but she can’t be fooled.
Among the buzz around , he looks at her, the jawline smiling from the strands of her.
And it’s pure peace.
When she places her palm on his shoulders, smiling, reminding him of the sun that rises after storms, it’s a bliss.
She might not be the end to his aliment, but it does relieves the pain.She’s not the Betty to his hulk, but Joey does needs her Phoebe.
Being around her is peace, the iniquities off the general folk.
But the chemo is rare when your doc is fighting her own battles. Even though he wants to pour himself out, cry on her shoulders, he doesn’t. It’d be selfish to pile up on someone who’s already suppressed under depression, isn’t it ?
It breaks his heart to see her helpless. Two friends,busy fighting their battles, unable to help each other among the complexities of teenage life.
Hopefully, someday, they’ll break their shackles and soothe each other.
For he needs his friend.
More than he can ever say, more than she’d probably ever know.