Falling
“Have you ever thought of me as more than a friend?”
“No.” They are all the same. He and the other coworkers are friends. Though several have asked me out, none lives up to my standards for a boyfriend—a husband.
But we hang out—alone. We talk, and I test him with questionnaires. There are no correct answers, only preferred ones. We have a lot of common interests, but he has one major flaw—he has a girlfriend.
He says that he and his girlfriend are having problems. I give advice to each of them and try to help them resolve their problems. I tell his girlfriend that I am not trying to steal him.
He breaks up with her, and she blames me. She stalks me on the internet and stalks us when we sit in parking lots talking. I don’t understand why he broke up with her after three years. He says it is because he likes me.
She moves out of his apartment, and a few months later, I move in. I have never lived with a guy before, nor do I believe it is good. But I am in college, and I do not like my roommates. My awkwardness of living with the ex-girlfriend’s ghost encourages him to get a new bed—one that has not comforted a previous girlfriend.
I am shy and conservative, and he reassures me by moving the relationship at my pace. I test his faithfulness by living with him, but never having sex. He responds by not pressuring me, by letting me enjoy and explore my naiveté.
“I love you,” he says. But I am too scared to respond. I have strong feelings for him, ones that I have never felt before, but I do not know if it is love.