I have a friend. A good friend. One of the very best.

My friend is in love. A hard, desperate, painful kind of love. The worst kind. The best kind of love.

Somewhere along the line, he professed his love. Sort of. In return, he heard professions of her love for him. Sort of.

Somewhere after that, she informed him that him and her could not be 'them'. Not yet.

He was not consulted. He was not asked. His opinion was not sought. He was informed.

Since that day, I have spent every single minute trying to make him choose. One way or another, a choice was in order. He could choose to make her rethink her decision. He could accept what she had decided. Either way, a choice had to be made.

Two months of suffering. Six days of uncertainty. One late night. One bottle of vodka.

Choice made.

For better or worse, my boy, I’m proud of you.

Trained you well I have. Do well in life you will.

2 comments:

Reeny said...

I hope so too.

just muttering said...

relationships...bah! ,,,and the fucking probs that go with them ..if its not you its a good frnd... thres no getting away :S