He was a good friend in high school. A best friend once we graduated. We talked online nearly every night, primarily just to check in with one another. It was a lovely break after a long day of classes.
In high school, I was in love with him for many years. It was one of those high school loves, and one I had no need to worry about. I knew he would never use me. We were (sadly) just friends. He was my lab partner, prom date, and ride home. Many wondered why we weren’t a couple—it was like we were dating without the affection from his side.
One evening during winter break our senior year, we went out for a drink at our favorite bar.
‘Bryan, what do you think would have happened if we went to college together?’
‘We would have had an awesome time.’
‘Do you think we would be as close?’
‘Closer.’
‘Why?’
‘You’d live down the street from me and we’d always be together.’
‘You think so?’
‘Of course, I never get sick of you.’
‘You lie.’
‘No, how could you say that? I’ve loved you since our days as lab partners.’