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.