✰

What I loved was an old friend.

He’d been around during that time I was infatuated with who.

There had always been that unspoken attraction between the two of us. He and I just orbited around each other. That’s how we spent all of our college years together. Just orbiting, always hanging around each other, just being together was always enough.

At least, that was what we told ourselves.

He and I were never really available when we wanted. I would be going out with a guy and he would be single, sitting on the sidelines, just waiting for me. And then he would get sick of waiting. So, by the time I broke up with my boyfriend at that time he was already trying to go steady with another girl. Then I would wait. And wait. And wait. And wait.

Then the routine would continue.

On and on we went those four years, going back and forth. Pushing and pulling. Trying to find a way to be together.

Several times we would find ourselves in each other’s arms the next morning after a party, just how we wanted, but what we wanted was so much more than a one-night stand. We wanted to make love, to be in love, to not constantly be in different relationships with people we didn’t fully care about.

During our drunken nights, “I love you’s” would slur from our lips.

The way our bodies would move against each other’s was much more than simple college .

How we would hold each other after ing was love.

How did I know it was love?

Because it hurt when I left him.

I wanted to be in that bed with him forever. Hoping that we could finally have our time. Hoping that we could finally be each others.

But that wasn’t the case.

It wasn’t going to happen between us.

Because our timing was off.

Our hormones were burning, during that time we were thinking mainly with our bodies. Not with our hearts or our minds. At least not completely. As much as we wanted each other, it wasn’t happening.

But our love never changed.

He could always make me laugh—always.

Every joke he made my side would be splitting painfully, but blissfully. He would smile so big that his gums were completely exposed to the world. He didn’t care though. He never cared about what everyone else thought of him. He was the kind of guy that would squawk when he was angry or pissed drunk. He was the guy that would make funny faces to cheer a person up when they were down.

No matter how goofy that man was, no matter how much he thought without much thought, no matter how many times he fell—what mattered was his good heart.

He was pure, he was vital, he was everything.

What I fell in love with was that everything he held in his spirit. He was just about on the verge of perfection. To be honest, I felt that he and I would marry one day. He was just that compatible to me.

But the timing was off. Like I said before. It was so off.

What I fell in love with was that comfort.

What I fell in love with was the depth and stories and love we shared.

What I fell in love with?