It's
Friday, December 22, 2000, and I'm planning on
stealing someone's
girlfriend. I don't know the guy, and from what I've heard of him, he's actually pretty
nice, and he takes good
care of her. I'm really going to
feel bad about this. But even that could be
nothing compared to the
pain of being a
best friend in
love.
She and I were
together once, and we knew a kind of
happiness that you just can't
describe. We were in love and talked of
marriage, though never directly applying the term to our own
future. I
screwed up one day, asking something of her that I had
no right to ask; something that would have
estranged her to her
parents and thrown her whole
world upside down.
She said 'no', we
broke up, and she's since moved on to
college, about 100 miles from my home. Four months later, she's got a
boyfriend. Now she's here for
Christmas, and I'm about to do the most
fucked-up thing I could
imagine, a
perversion of the
moral code that brought me to break up with her in the first place, a moral code inspired by my
desire to
be a better person for her.
Now here I am, throwing away any
chance of a
friendship between us, on the most miniscule
possibility that
she still loves me. Here goes
nothing...
Oh no.
She loves him.