There is comfort in knowing that one of my closest guy friends automatically run to me for help when courting a girl and seek advice during the aftermath of a break up. Behind the braided bun, the summer dress and the cheek tint, he finds a brother. In this boy’s eyes, I am one of their own.
Partly and probably, I am to blame because I let him treat me as his go-to girl, the wing (wo)man and default shoulder to cry on. Hours and hours that could have been spent on much-needed sleep have been splurged on Yahoo Messenger and alternatively, on long telephone conversations.
Sometimes in my head, I imagine an explosion of emotions happening, behind a backdrop of candy-colored fireworks and to the sound of a classical orchestra. But then I am pulled back to the reality of x years worth of friendship —- no more, no less.
We both know that I’ll “always be the bestfriend, never the girlfriend.” And as he pointed out, quite alarmingly, being in a relationship has never been my thing.