I was both terrified and excited about having this conversation.
It needed to happen because what he had said just days before was still just hanging out there. In fact, we had only communicating cordially through email since then.
A real life, face-to-face needed to happen.
He was coming over and I had promised myself that I would be sober. Not because it would have mattered to him if I had had a few beers, but because I really wanted him to trust that this was serious to me. This conversation was important.
I sucked in and just went for it, “so you were serious when you said you were falling for me?”
He looked me straight in the eyes. This friend of mine stared at me with his hazel eyes. “You got it.”
“So do you expect me to be for it or….I mean…do we just…do this? Do we become more than friends? I don’t know if I can do that. Is that what you want? This is so confusing.”
“I know,” he replied.
“Seriously? SERIOUSLY? ‘I know’? I need some input here. Now that that is out there, nothing will ever be the same. Our million year friendship can’t be the same no matter what happens next.”
He just nodded.
“Well?” I was getting impatient. I was always getting impatient.
“Well, you’re right. but I already told you…you know…what I told you. So I guess it’s really your choice.”
“NO! this can’t all be put on me. This is NOT just my choice. You are in this too. What do you want to happen from that statement?” I stared at him incredulously with my mouth agape.
“I guess it’s not a good idea.”
Ok good. He was going to be all reasonable.
“No. it’s not. We are friends. Best friends. If anything happens? We are DONE. Look what happened to me and Lance.” I leaned back on the couch and crossed my arms.
“You’re right. It’s a bad idea,” he said nodding and also sitting back on the love seat.
We sat and looked at each other for the longest minute in our lives together.
The cat stretched and walked slowly off my lap and I leaned forward again with a huge, telling sigh.
“But then why do I not FEEL like it’s a bad idea? You know, in my heart?”
“I don’t know. I don’t feel like it’s bad either. That’s why I told you in the first place.”
My palms went up to my face and I rubbed the heels of my hands in my eye sockets.
This post originally appeared on my now defunct blog, Exploded Moments. I’m bringing it back here because it’s part of our story.