He shakes his head. “I never lied to you.”
“No, but you lied to yourself. If you actually feel there isn’t anything more to what we’re doing than friendship, or if you really don’t think that fooling around affects what we are—then you’re lying to yourself. But have you ever really believed it? Do you really have no idea how much I love you? How much I want this to work out?”
Ryan looks horrified, and I understand that both of us have been afraid of this conversation, for different reasons.
“Why are you doing this?” he asks.
“Because you are the best thing in my life and I know I’m the best thing in your life. Because it’s one thing for me to think you aren’t ready to be with anyone and it’s totally another for you to want to be with someone besides me. Because I know how it feels when we kiss each other. Because I feel like I have spent my whole life waiting to tell you the truth, and if I hold it in any longer, it is going to make me hate both of us. Because I don’t want to be your wingman—I want to be your goddamn copilot.”
“But what if I don’t want that?” Ryan is adamant. “What if I want Taylor?”
I can’t look at him. I am falling apart. I wrap my arms around myself. I stare at the carpet under my feet.
“I mean,” Ryan continues, “what if Taylor’s the one I want to date? That doesn’t mean I don’t want you as my best friend. I want you as my best friend. Always. Doesn’t that matter more than dating?”
I don’t look up. “I know. I know all that. And maybe I’m being selfish, but I want everything. I want all of you. Because I’m in love with all of you.”
I say this and I realize—there’s nothing else I can say. I can repeat it a million different ways—but there’s nothing more I can add, nothing stronger than this.
I am trying not to think about kissing on this bed. I am trying not to think about being naked on this carpet. I am trying not to remember all the times we closed that door and became those people and made everything feel possible.
He walks over and sits next to me. I feel the weight of him against the mattress. The dip and the slight lift.
He puts a hand on my shoulder. Not romantic. Consoling.
“Look,” he tells me, “I can say it over and over again. You are my best friend. You are my best friend. You are my best friend. I love you like that, which is huge. I don’t want to hurt that, and I don’t want to hurt you. I know you’re making it seem like it’s obvious that you’d react this way to Taylor, but honestly, it feels out of the blue to me. I know it isn’t—I know that now. But you have to understand, to me it is. I never thought what we did was … that. I am very, very sorry if you did. But I didn’t do anything to make you think that. I didn’t. It’s always been clear to me. And that doesn’t make you any less awesome to me. You are completely awesome to me. You’re just not my boyfriend. You’re my best friend.”
“But do those have to be two different things?” I ask, barely keeping the sob from engulfing my voice.
“In our case, yes.”
This is so much worse than I feared it would be.
We sit there for a minute or two. I have nothing left to say. He has nothing left to say.
Finally, it’s Ryan who breaks the silence.
“Look, I saw you dancing on that bar. And I read about your adventures on Saturday night. Man, that made me jealous. But I’m glad for it, because it shows that you’re going to have plenty of opportunities—you’re going to find someone as awesome as you, and I’m really hoping that when you do, you’ll tell me all about it. Because that’s what best friends do. And even though right now it’s so totally awkward, I know it’ll pass, and I know it’ll be fine, and I know we’ll get through this. Okay?”
I don’t want someone else. I want you, I think. Even now.
But I’m back to keeping it inside. Before it was because I feared it wouldn’t work. Now it’s because I know it won’t work.
I can’t tell him it’s all okay, either. I can’t lie like that.
I just look at him and think all of the old things one more time.
You are so beautiful.
I understand you.
You understand me.
I know you well.
We’re in this together.
We can be together.
We can cut through all the bullshit, and what we’ll find underneath is love.
I know I should let go of all of these things—but you can’t let go of something that’s inside you. You’re not holding it like that.
You are not good enough, Mark.
You will never be good enough.
How could you ever expect him to see you that way?
He was using you, and now he’s done.
You were just a substitute until he found someone better.
And now he’s found someone better.