TRISTAN POV
Miguel's voice crackled through the phone, filled with irritation. "Gosh, buddy, managing two companies is hard, but since you're a friend, I agreed. But please! Please, just for a day, come to my office, it's always empty!"
I couldn't help but smile at Miguel's frustration. He agreed to take care of my company for a while, but he did it willingly, knowing I needed his support. Plus, I knew he wouldn't say no to a friend, even if it meant handling the difficulties of managing two businesses at once.
With a casual shrug, I leaned against the hood of my car, my eyes on the simple house across the street. It was a familiar view, one I had gotten used to in the past few months. From here, I had watched her many times, observing her actions and behaviors, but always staying away.
After a long day of boring paperwork and never-ending meetings, I came back to this place ready to face the issue that had been on my mind for too long. It had been almost a month since my last visit, and nothing had changed—except now I had her number, a small win in a sea of uncertainty.
As I watched the sun set below the horizon, spreading a warm glow over the peaceful neighborhood, I couldn't help but feel excited. Tonight would be special; tonight, I would take action and let myself be seen.
Miguel's voice came through the phone, filled with annoyance and worry. "Just hang in there a bit longer, buddy, I still have something to take care of."
I could hear the frustration in his voice, but his words only made me more determined. "What are you going to do there, huh?! That girl you can't get out of your head, right?! Come on, snap out of it! You said you haven't even introduced yourself since you met, so it means you need to give up. There are plenty of girls in the club waiting for you, but you're stuck on her! What's going on with you, Tristan?!"
Each word felt like a punch to the gut, but among all the things he said, one word stuck in my mind: give up.
My jaw tightened as I listened to Miguel's rant, his voice getting louder by the second. But despite his good intentions, his words only fueled a sense of rebellion in me.
"Why would I quit?!" I shot back, my voice rising in frustration. "I'm here, buddy, I'm here, but you're saying I should quit just because she doesn't remember me? Can't I just try harder? Maybe if I give it my all, she might feel the same way. You're my best friend, but why are you saying that? I really like this woman who means everything to me, even my heart, and you're telling me to quit?! What's up, Migs?!"
There was a tense pause on the other end of the line as my words lingered, their impact sinking in. Miguel's frustration was clear, his worry evident in the way his voice softened.
"Tristan, I understand, I really do," he started, his tone quieter now. "But you've been going after this girl for months, and what do you have to show for it? You hardly know her, buddy. You've created this image of her in your head that might not even be accurate. And all the time and effort you're putting into her, it's affecting you, pal. You're ignoring everything else in your life—your job, your friends, yourself."
His words struck me hard, the truth of them painfully clear. I had been so focused on her that I had ignored everything else in my life, losing myself in a dream that might never happen.
But even as I recognized Miguel's valid worries, I couldn't let go of the strong resolve inside me. Quitting wasn't on the table—not after all I've done, not when I can still see a bit of hope ahead.
"I understand what you're saying, Migs," I replied, my voice gentler now, tinged with acceptance. "And I'm truly grateful for your worries,. But I can't give up, not yet. I have to keep going, whatever it takes. Because if there's even a small chance that she might feel the same way, then it's worth fighting for."
"I get you, Tristan! I get you completely, but why do I feel like you're just using me? You are, buddy," he said in a cold tone, "Yes, you are, to the extent that you're always busy and you don't even bother to check if I have problems and issues that need fixing."
I just pulled my own hair out of frustration. Have I become selfish? Am I too selfish towards him that I didn't even consider the consequences of what I asked from him? Damn! I'm sorry buddy. I really am.
"Migs..." That's all I could say.
There was a pause as Miguel took in my words, his sigh filled with acceptance. "Okay, I get it, Tristan. I really do. Just promise me one thing, alright?"
I nodded, even though he couldn't see it. "Anything, Migs."
"Promise me you won't let this overwhelm you, that you'll remember who you are and what really matters in life. Promise me you'll look after yourself, buddy. Because no woman is worth risking your happiness and health for."
His words hit home, a reminder of the risks of losing myself in pursuit of someone who might not reciprocate. And as I heard the earnestness in Miguel's voice, I realized I couldn't disregard his advice any longer.
"I promise, Migs," I replied, feeling determined. "I won't let this overwhelm me. I'll remember who I am and what's important. And if it's meant to happen, it will.
After reassuring each other one last time, we said goodbye, the impact of our talk lingering. As I ended the call, I felt a newfound clarity, leading me towards self-discovery and acceptance.