She became part of my group of friends because we all had a similar sense of fun (I didn't notice it about her at the time). I liked her but she was a bit of a mosquito. Always buzzing around. This is kind of harsh because she was really funny; I just tended to always be noticing other women. I didn't really see her as attractive, either (even though she was devastating). She admitted to being crazy about me but always made it seem like a joke.
Then a bad thing happened in her life and she turned to me for comfort. We became very good friends and we talked pretty much every day. When we didn't talk, I missed her. Despite that, we both dated other people. From my point of view, she became my best female friend. We were open with each other about everything. We cared very much about each other. After knowing her for perhaps eighteen months, I began to realise I was developing strong romantic feelings for her. People we were with were always jealous of our bond, especially her boyfriends. My girlfriends were less noticeably bothered (because girlfriends are great that way).
One time when we were both single, I thought she felt the same about me. We were talking and she said she was falling for someone, someone who was a good friend. You know how your stomach swooshes when someone is telling you life-changing news? That was the biggest swoosh of my life. All she had to do then was look me in the eye and tell me. Inwardly, I was willing her to do it. When she told me, she told me something I wasn't expecting. It wasn't me. It was a mutual friend of ours. I don't know how I kept enough composure for her to not realise my feelings. In retrospect, I didn't. She must have known.
Six months later we found ourselves having the same conversation but this time it was me. We had incredible fun. We still live inside each other despite her recently getting married. The breed of dog she owns is a private joke between us. So much of her life is. I haven't written to her in over a year but I think of her on a weekly basis.
I've said all this and still I haven't truly said how we met. A party. We hid under a table together and talked about clitorides. Looking back on it now, I can't think of a better way for a relationship to start than by first being stupid together, then being friends, then being best friends, and then sleeping together. You know when you see a rom-com about an idealised relationship? That's what it was actually like.
Is it normal to meet your significant other...
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She became part of my group of friends because we all had a similar sense of fun (I didn't notice it about her at the time). I liked her but she was a bit of a mosquito. Always buzzing around. This is kind of harsh because she was really funny; I just tended to always be noticing other women. I didn't really see her as attractive, either (even though she was devastating). She admitted to being crazy about me but always made it seem like a joke.
Then a bad thing happened in her life and she turned to me for comfort. We became very good friends and we talked pretty much every day. When we didn't talk, I missed her. Despite that, we both dated other people. From my point of view, she became my best female friend. We were open with each other about everything. We cared very much about each other. After knowing her for perhaps eighteen months, I began to realise I was developing strong romantic feelings for her. People we were with were always jealous of our bond, especially her boyfriends. My girlfriends were less noticeably bothered (because girlfriends are great that way).
One time when we were both single, I thought she felt the same about me. We were talking and she said she was falling for someone, someone who was a good friend. You know how your stomach swooshes when someone is telling you life-changing news? That was the biggest swoosh of my life. All she had to do then was look me in the eye and tell me. Inwardly, I was willing her to do it. When she told me, she told me something I wasn't expecting. It wasn't me. It was a mutual friend of ours. I don't know how I kept enough composure for her to not realise my feelings. In retrospect, I didn't. She must have known.
Six months later we found ourselves having the same conversation but this time it was me. We had incredible fun. We still live inside each other despite her recently getting married. The breed of dog she owns is a private joke between us. So much of her life is. I haven't written to her in over a year but I think of her on a weekly basis.
I've said all this and still I haven't truly said how we met. A party. We hid under a table together and talked about clitorides. Looking back on it now, I can't think of a better way for a relationship to start than by first being stupid together, then being friends, then being best friends, and then sleeping together. You know when you see a rom-com about an idealised relationship? That's what it was actually like.