He dropped me off at my house. I closed the
door and went inside.
5 minutes later i walked back by the door to see that he was still sitting there, in his '85 black sl500 convertible.
I went back outside. His head was down; his posture suggested he was crying.
"Are you alright?"
My words took him by surprise. He didn't realize I had been standing there watching him.
"Yeah, its just that..."
"It's just that what?"
We sat there for what seemed like an eternity, just staring at each other.
"You forget," he said, "that I can read you like a book. So I'm just gonna say this because I know you won't. We're more than just friends. But I'm afraid... afraid that..."
"That I still like Him? Well... I don't. I know that you think I do, but I don't. The only thing that's left is that little feeling that never really goes away, the one you carry forever. So it doesn't count."
There was an awkward silence.
Finally, I broke it. "So what do you wanna do?"
"I don't know."
"You forget I know you better than that. What do you want to do?"
"I want to lean over right now, and kiss you. But I'm afraid it'll screw things up."
"It won't."
So he did.