The weekend

ight into things. I took my time; went to the hotel we’d agreed upon and pulled out the first outfit that had been requested of me. I was supposed to meet him str

troverted, shy, small town American girl and the idea of exploring the world intimidated me. There was always a desire to see certain parts of the world though. As much as

ever really aligned for us. Our rapport was undeniable though. The sarcasm and snark dripped from each of us and we played so well against each other. We always managed to have a good time together, even if it wa

n with other people and it was what it was. Over time he started letting me back into his life. I don’t know if he’d just forgotten how we drifted apart or if he just genuinely misse

nusual, but I figured I’d just made him uncomfortable. Throughout our friendship there was one constant in my mind and that was the idea that he simply wasn’t attracted to me in the same way that I was attracted to

he suggested I come over for a weekend. It took a few months before I was fully on board with the idea that it wasn’t a joke, but a real proposition. I have to be honest, it excited me

we started planning. It had to be a time that worked for both of us, we both needed time off from work and time to put some other small details in order, like the fact that I ne

refully; my stomach was a mess. I hadn’t eaten anything in a couple of days over the nerves of flying and meeting one of my oldest friends in person for the first time

dn’t do much more than stare at t