We arranged to meet up in our favourite coffee shop. How many times I had cried on his shoulder here. How different it felt this time to have to be awkward with one another. “And so it transpired…from the very beginning…I tried to get over it….” (He looked at me then looked away again) “I thought I was over it” (His voice broke) “but seeing you in that wedding dress, something just snapped within me…I’ve only ever tried to be a friend to you…”
As he was talking, a strange, unfamiliar and somewhat uncomfortable thought struck me. I stared at that cute rueful smile that broke out over his face as he looked imploringly at me. I considered everything about him; how supportive he’d always been, trustworthy, dependable – and laugh out loud funny. I thought of how he never seemed to be in a relationship and how he always took great pains to tell me when he liked someone, as if he was sincerely waiting to hear my opinion. And I asked myself how it was that I had managed to be friends with this man for so long without developing feelings for him myself?! I tried to push the thought away, but it lingered somewhat…after that conversation…when I woke up…while I was at work…it would be there, waiting for me.
