Thanks, That Was Fun

Here I am again. I suppose this ranting to the void of the internet business has some attractions to it, not least of which is that certainly only the people that I know and choose to disclose where I'm typing to can read it. So here we go.

Yesterday, one of my dear friends decided that she "is in love with" a guy she knows. Having experience in the department, I asked her to be sure of what she was feeling before telling the man in question. She didn't understand. I proceeded to explain that 'love' is one of those words that one shouldn't just toss around like money - it has deeper meaning.

She still didn't get it. I was forced to do something I told myself I would never, ever, even consider doing: I told her how I had felt about her while we were going out. I told her that even if I had only seen her once every two months, I would have been happy (and this was very nearly the case). I told her that every time I was with her, I couldn't have cared less what our friends thought, because they didn't matter. I told her that every time she got out of my car and walked into her house, I felt so much physical pain that I had to drive away, park around the corner, and cry for a couple minutes. And then I told her that I might have loved her. Because even to this day, I'm not sure. Certainly, I felt something. Absolutely, it was close to love. But was it love? I don't know, and that's the one word you don't throw around without really meaning it. And I was obliged to tell her that one can't bury those feelings. Not even close.

And so, there I was, over eight months after we went our separate ways, telling her how I felt about her. Over that despicable Facebook-Chat thing, no less. And the response I got was this: "Wow. Ummmm, okay." That alone told me she doesn't love this guy of hers. Which is a shame, because she's a lovely girl, and he has absolutely no idea that she likes him. His 12-year-old brother, on the other hand, is giving him so many hints that he could have been a teleprompter for George W Bush. And this guy still has no clue.

At this point of her mini-rant, I jumped in. I am sure that I did the right thing - one of them has to deal with the other at some point, and rather sooner than later for my ex-girlfriend. I told her, in no uncertain terms, that she was to choose. Either she could tell him to his face, or over Facebook, or I could tell him. Either way will get the job done, of that we are both sure.

What she doesn't know is that I was right when I said that those feelings never leave. Just telling her brought back a measure of what I felt for her, and that, even by my books, was a while ago. I spent six months getting to the point where I could listen to her talk about her guy problems and not want to smash something, and now, thanks to her inability to tell a male that she has feelings for him, I'm back to being a stupid lovesick man myself.

Thanks so much for that, E. It was oh-so-very-much appreciated.