The Flashback That Started It All

This one time at UGA, one of my friends hosted a party with his housemates. I attended, and as he and I got progressively drunker, he spent hours telling me how he was totally in love with his housemate's girlfriend — how said housemate would treat her horribly, and they kept breaking up and getting back together again — how my friend would treat her better and never be a jerk the way his housemate was.

I sympathized and told him I could tell he was totally serious about her and that it sucked she kept going back to the asshole housemate. We talked and talked and then somehow wound up making out in his bed all night long. It was lots of drunken fun, and even when we were sober in the morning, we were still kissing as he told me how much he loved this girl. We'd never kissed before and never did again, and it really proved to be no bump at all in our friendship. We've mostly fallen out of touch, but I think it had a lot more to do with my moving away from Athens than anything else.

I never doubted that he did in fact love her, and — turns out — my faith was not misplaced. At long last, he did start dating her. They are now happily married. I like to think that I was a shoulder to cry on, a womanly shaped somebody to kiss, and a friend who understood, all rolled into one — a make-out buddy who understood 100% that his heart belonged elsewhere.

I can multitask.



Sometimes.