I am a professional friend-girl. Men come to me for advice, not “romahnce”. My track record with men is poor to non-existent. I’m not the hottie they lust after, I’m the kid sister they’d roughhouse with.

Since some boy is better than no boy, I accepted my role.

He was one of those guys who got better looking once you got to know him. Not much to look at, really – but then again, neither am I. We ran in the same circles, so we were aware of each other, but not much more than blips on the radar. And then, I asked him over to watch a movie.

We had a great time. What really did it to me was his sense of humor. You’d never know from looking at him, but the boy had a wicked funny streak. I am a sucker for quick witted.

After that first movie, he came over for another. We watched more and more movies together at my place. And would you believe more often than not it was him, not me, that would arrange to come hang out? This was new territory.

We watched several movies, we talked about everything under the sun, we became very good friends… and he never made so much as a back-handed pass at me. Friend-girl rides again.

It didn’t bother me… much. After all, it was what I was used to, comfortably familiar. But we were spending an awful lot of time together, more than I was used to. I wasn’t complaining, though. I always had someone to watch TV or go for walks or grab dinner or bake cookies with. I felt comfortable with him, the perfect, broken-in jeans kind of comfortable. Friends referred to us in tandem – I wasn’t ‘me’, I was ‘me and him’. It was “I Can’t Believe It’s Not Boyfriend”. We were a non-item, but we were a non-item with potential.

I loved it.

Of course he’s gay. Unhappily so, ‘unpracticing’, but gay. (In retrospect I should’ve seen it coming, but that’s as may be.) I nearly shocked out when he told me – this is NOT what your not-boyfriend is supposed to tell you, after all – but I rallied and was as supportive and comforting as I was able to be. Considering I was nearly the first person he’d told, we both came through as well as could be expected. It hurt, but we both lived.

We remained very close friends for quite a while, but it ended messily with his betrayal (that’s another story)… and marriage (now that’s another story indeed).

Rather anticlimactic ending, really. Pathetic. But what’s most pathetic is, that was the best run at it I’ve ever had.