I'm sated after dinner. Maryann is drinking a glass of wine, Hughes is drinking nothing, and I'm slowly making my way through a scoop of plain vanilla ice-cream. We're all quiet. Then Maryann and Hughes start talking about something generic to do with the town and city codes and that stop sign on so-and-so intersection. I don't know. I zone out.

I'm thinking about the past. At a party, we hadn't known each other that long, but we were still good friends – Hughes pulled me aside and took me to a separate room. He told me about his new girlfriend. Just a fact. Nothing to be excited about. But it was a secret, he told me. So I was happy I knew a secret of his.

In return, I told him a secret of my own, a few days later. I wasn't straight. Cool, he said. I am very straight, he added. We laughed.

That's how we got close. By sharing secrets. Secrets about our families, our boyfriends and girlfriends, the friends we didn't like, the things we wanted to do with our lives, what we wanted our futures to look like, the places we wanted to go, the feelings we wanted to experience...

But obviously there was one secret I could never tell him. That is what drove us apart.

Initially, I liked him a little bit. I figured it would go away. My feelings usually did, especially in this department. But Hughes is vibrant. He is incredibly lovable. My feelings only grew. They grew, and grew, and grew – till they became so big that I couldn't see Hughes past them. I only saw him as the object of my affections. I forgot how to talk to him, how to treat him, how to be his friend. I know that hurt him.

We fought about it so often. He would say I've become so different now, so awkward around him – and I would just storm off before he could see me cry. I couldn't face him anymore. Every time I ignored him, he would come behind me, ask me about it. I would brush it off. I liked to see him desperate for me. It made me feel good about myself. I wasn't thinking about him at all. The distance between us continued to grow.

A point came that I realized – the distance was better for my poor lovesick heart.

If Hughes was far away, at least I could comfortably think about how much I liked him and longed for him without having to face him in real life – and along with him, the reality, that I could probably never be with him. I didn't want to date him. But I did want to spend the rest of my life with him. I didn't know how to make that work. Wouldn't he want to marry some nice lady someday and settle down? He is that kind of guy – wants a big family and all. So do I. I want a lovely family with many children of my own. But – I don't know. I think I'm just more complicated (read: troubled) than him.

So, better to just stay away and ache privately.

I'm only now realizing how selfish that was.

Hughes loves me, too. I mean. I think he does. After all this time, does he? I'll have to confirm. But, regardless, I know he cares for me. Just as I do for him. But I was so cruel in pushing him away. I don't know if that rock of feelings that I had wedged between us is still going to get in the way.

I watch Hughes across the room. He and Maryann are sitting on the sofa. The lights are dim. It's warm inside the house. The empty bowl in my lap is cold to the touch. I feel calm. I could fall asleep in a moment's time. I remember falling asleep next to Hughes. Such a pretty boy. Even in his sleep. Those long, dark lashes. His perfect skin. The heart-shape of his mouth. He is the kindest, strongest, most beautiful person I've met in my life.

I've missed him so. I wish we could be best friends again.