friend zone

June 2016

Sh*t. I think I have feelings for my friend.

A friend, who has been my friend since we were 11 years old. A friend who has only ever been a friend, who I’ve never considered ever moving out of the friend zone, ever.

WHAT THE F&^%.

At high school I had two best guy friends. The three of us were tight, super tight. One of them had a serious accident the night before our Year 13 ball meaning he couldn’t take me, and the other friend – we’ll call him The Runner, turned up on my doorstep in his suit, with a rose, telling me not to worry – he had explained the situation to his previous date and was now taking me. It’s a moment I will simply never forget and always, always cherish.

The Runner and I have lived in different countries since our first year out of school, him in America then Australia, me in New Zealand and now England. So while we haven’t spent much time together, whenever we’re in the same place we catch up briefly, enjoy each other’s company and that’s that. Nothing more has ever, ever crossed my mind. Not even once.

18 years later I found myself receiving a message from him telling me he is coming to London for work, and if he were to extend his trip and spend more time here, would I be around to hang out.

Ah – absolutely!

It never occurred to me that in the last 10 years of our friendship we haven’t spent more than a coffee date together yet were about to embark on four whole days together living and breathing each other given he would be staying in my tiny flat.

Now that he’s gone, I realise there was nothing to have ever been worried about. It was, amazing. We  spent nearly all of our waking, non-working moments together and while in some relationships or friendships this would start to wear thin, its only strengthened things – in my eyes anyway.

We’ve been tourists, we’ve explored aimlessly , we’ve taken selfies, we’ve gone for coffee, we’ve partied, we’ve had couple photos taken, we’ve sat on Primrose Hill with a beer looking over London, we’ve gone for dinners, cocktails on rooftop bars and to the theatre.

It didn’t take long to realise somehow, somewhere along the line, I had started seeing my friend of 18 years through different eyes.

This is so not what I wanted.

I feel sick – but I can’t stop thinking about him.

distanced hearts club ♥

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s