Oliver looks as if he’s about to cry. He turns back over and lies on his back. I scoot over a little closer to him, and I lay my head on his chest. He twirls my hair in his fingers, then he wraps his arms around me and kisses the top of my head. We lay there talking for the next hour or so, just talking about random things. I am so comfortable with Oliver. Laying here with him feels so…natural. Like this is how it’s supposed to feel. I wonder what it would be like to be like this with him everyday…as more than his friend.

I wonder about how life would be, just me and Ollie. I imagine how it would be to wake up like this every morning, his blue eyes being the first thing I see in the morning, and the last thing I see before I drift off to sleep. I dream of how it would be to kiss him without guilt, how it would be if he were mine.

But I can’t do that. I have Peter. It just scares me to realize that now, despite the fact that I love Peter, I’m wondering if I’m with the right man.