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It was the beginning of our senior year of high school, I was sitting on my parent's living room couch while he laid on the carpeted floor with a guitar stretched across his chest. He plucked at the strings with hardly a thought at all and a lovely tune hummed from beneath his finger tips. We had been friends since the seventh grade, which, at that point, equalled a grand sum of six whole years friendship-- and for five of those six years we had been not only friends, but best friends. We had never dated (but we had, of course, been on several dates. We never made things "official" on terms of a romantic relationship, though. In fact, we kept things pretty consistently on a friend-to-friend basis. However, that was mostly because of me. Taylor blatantly admits that he's been in love with me since the day he saw me but that he waited patiently for me to finally come around.)

Taylor eventually gave up on playing the guitar and after placing it gently against the wall (where it would stay somewhat safe), he sat on the couch right beside me. I grabbed a pillow and tossed it onto his lap before making myself at home and sprawling out across the entire couch, my head resting on top of the pillow I had thrown. I stared up at Taylor as he played with my hair. I realized in that moment how much he really did care for me. He'd been there for me through the ups and downs of my middle school and high school experiences. Heck, he was the first one I called when my mom got in a car accident, when I was having a tough day, or even when I'd just done something really, incredibly stupid. I always knew that his feelings for me were a little more than just "friendship," but he had never forced those feelings upon me. He was always patient and understanding and he always made sure that I knew that our friendship was the most important thing.

Laying there, staring up at that boy who had always been there for me, something in my head just clicked. For so long I had put off any feelings I may have had for him, simply telling myself that they were "silly" or "short-lived." But I realized that the only "silly" thing was the fact that I had not ever really given the concept of "us" a chance. And just like that, after six years of JUST-friendship, I suddenly wanted him to kiss me.

I sent him all the signals, I puckered my lips a little when I talked, I got extra flirty, and I even started to slip subtle hints into the things I was saying. I thought I was being completely obvious, but now that I look back on it, I realize that I was probably just being extremely confusing. I'd spent all that time saying, "no, no, no, no, no!" to romantic relations with Tay and then all of a sudden I was sending him "signals?" Yeah, sorry hun.

Long story short, after a painful hour of me dragging on with all of those "hints" and Taylor fighting off his aching desire to kiss me (but also thinking he was crazy and that I wasn't sending him any signals at all), he finally gave in and, leaning down ever so slowly, pressed his lips against my own. It all happened so fast that I didn't really think about what happened next. But, before I could even stop myself the word, "FINALLY," had already slipped out of my mouth.

Maybe it was because he'd taken a full on hour to take advantage of the fact that I was sending him all the "kiss me!!!!!" hints... or maybe it was because we had been "just friends" for so long despite the fact that, deep down, we both knew there was so much more between us than we were actually letting on. But, in all reality, I can't exactly explain why that was the first word that left my mouth that autumn evening all those years ago... but I do know this: I'm glad that our love finally came to be.


  1. This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

  2. this experience is so insanely beautiful! I could read it a thousand times!


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