It was a great idea.

We were friends for the longest time, as far back as public school. I had a crush on her. I also had a bad haircut, poor social skills and about 30 lbs more than I should ideally have had.

I'm so kind to myself.

In high school we started chatting with each other regularly. I would rant, she would laugh, we basked in our combined angst. One day she added a little heart when she said goodbye. Another day she asked me if I had a crush on anyone. We decided we wanted to try dating.

We were sixteen, we were awkward. My heart raced when I put my arm around her, and went no further. The last time I went over to her house, I made a desperate attempt to kiss her on her front step. It did not go well. I stopped talking to people after that.

Years later, I resurfaced during first year of university. I found her again, by chance. We started talking, we liked the same movies, we felt the same way about all the important things. We were both in relationships.

Summer approached. I grew apart from my girlfriend, her boyfriend cheated on her. We made plans to hang out.

We went back to our old school, we mourned over the missing playground, we talked about books, I couldn't retrace the conversation's path even if I tried. She snuggled up closer to me under the pretense of being cold, I put my arm around her under the pretense of being a gentleman.

When it came time for me to leave, she lingered outside her front door. I grabbed her by the waist and pulled her closer, she looked up and we kissed.

Later on she would tell me that the reason she started laughing is because she was so happy.

It wasn't cold, I started shivering because of adrenaline.

We kissed again.

OK, well, it was a great idea this time.