Around the same time that I was kind of vaguely involved with #103, I was also spending a lot of time with a friend of mine, we’ll call him Adam. I’d known him through a mutual friend for a while but all of a sudden we’d started really bonding. We had a lot to talk about and it was exciting to be in each other’s company. The thing was, and it feels really weird to put it so directly (hi Adam!), he seemed to maybe have a crush on me, and I wanted to keep it platonic. “You have to talk to him, babe,” #80 implored me; she’d picked up on it. So one evening, à propos of nothing, I suddenly blurted out something about not being able to offer more than friendship. Adam responded with a suitably awkward “Okay, well, thanks for letting me know”, and then we got back to whatever we were doing. (I did, in fact, consider making a move on him one night, but I knew it was opportunistic and I managed to resist, not wanting to mess with his head. My self-discipline was all the more remarkable given that that night I was so wasted I almost peed behind the television set before #98 reminded me we had a bathroom.)
So, things were set in place: I continued hanging out with Adam, but was mindful that I should tread carefully. This all went out the window when he made the mistake of turning up to a party in my flat with a friend who was cute as hell.
I took one look at #104 and thought: spanner, meet works.
I figured there was no way I could do anything that night while Adam was around. The best course of action, I reckoned, was to swap phone numbers with #104 and we could meet up at a later date. We wound up going into my room to swap numbers. And then, seeing as we were alone together, I figured it would be okay to kiss him, just for a minute. And then, one thing led to another, and by the time the door opened we were on the floor, and of course it was Adam who opened the door, it couldn’t have been anyone else. “Oh, sorry,” he said, and walked straight out of the flat.
I spent the rest of the weekend wavering between 50% guilt and 50% fond memories of hot action. Adam called me a night or two later and we had a frank discussion about how he felt. I wish I could remember it better: thanks, mists of time. But I guess it wound up okay, sort of. He was not keen to see #104 with me, but I don’t think he took time out from hanging out with me; our friendship didn’t really suffer. I saw #104 a few more times, and then it kind of fizzled out, and I don’t really remember why, maybe we both got sidetracked or something. I enjoyed being with him but I also don’t recall being massively emotionally invested; I was in general feeling like an emotional cripple in those days. I think #104’s married now. Adam and I are still friends.