Disclaimer: I do not own South Park. Trust me if I did it would be A LOT gayer... if that's possible... I mean Cartman tries to get Kyle to suck his balls every season, he also put Butter's fireman in his mouth, and oh don't forget that the two super best friends hold each other in their arms crying and saying I love you.

Authors Note: This is my first style, but feel free to say whatever about it. If you terrific readers ever find a spelling error or unnecessary fluff in my story please tell me. I started writing this story cause I was bored and figured it was better than going to hang out with friends and do absolutely nothing but talk for five hours. Enjoy! :3

… I guess?

Summary: I really don't know, I have three other chapters typed and ready to post, but I kind of want to see if anyone is reading first... Also this is super short because its prologue... other chapters will be a lot longer! Thanks for reading!

Prologue

Stan's P.O.V.

Everyone has a moment where they believe they might be in love with their best friend. At least I hope everyone does. So as you might have guessed, I'm at that part of my life right now. And it's not exactly even the fact I'm in that 'moment' that's freaking me out, its just that I've been in this stage for a hell of a lot longer than a 'moment'.

I'm not really sure when I began noticing. I just started thinking about him a lot. It's not like I didn't before or anything, it's just different. At first it wasn't even as if I liked him, just the occasional thoughts of him. Nothing really out of the ordinary. Well, until I started doing things such as comparing him to Wendy, ditching her to hang out with him, stuff like that. Which was the cause of at least eight of my break ups. That's another thing that makes him great, hes always there for me when Wendy breaks up with me.

Like when I grew out of the whole throwing up thing. I just got a slight nausea or a stomach ache when I was around her instead . I guess Wendy thought I didn't like her anymore, because I didn't vomit on her every time she tried to hold my hand or kiss me. Therefore she broke up with me, because I didn't puke my guts on her as an 'sign of affection'. What sort of logic is that?

During those two months I was single in 6th grade he was there for me. He was the first person beside Wendy that noticed I had out grew my 'habit', he even pointed it out to me that the whole reason she left me was because of it. I didn't believe him though, I mean I thought me not puking all over her was a positive thing. I guess it varies on the person.

Anyways no matter how much I whined and bitched he remained by my side and tried to cheer me up. It really helped. He even almost got me to believe there was other people out there besides Wendy.

That was until Wendy realized I was still depressed, so to her that equals into me liking her again. So she sent Bebe to me who told me Wendy was willing to take me back. Why it took her a whole two months to notice I was miserable, I'm not exactly sure. I think it had to due with the fact everybody was dying of some sickness that only I could fix by seeking out the same wise man from Bellocreek that helped me find the cure to SARS, Super AIDS, Ebola, polio, and the clap that the midget in a bikini was spreading around.

Then there was the time when Wendy dumped me for the 24h time in junior high and he helped me out when I was in my what's-life-worth-living-for-if-the-only-girl-I'll-ever-love-doesn't-love-me-anymore stage. He was always there, no matter how many times I told him to fuck off or leave me alone and go be a happy go lucky conformist asshole like everybody else. He was more than pissed that I was acting like a faggy goth kid again, and I really should have learned from the other 23 times that this happened that me and Wendy would probably get back together in less than a week. I guess its pretty safe to say I never learn.

A week later Wendy came up to me and said she wanted to get back together. That was the second time she didn't send one of her friends to ask me. I should have probably been happy about her wanting to take me back, but inside I was more just neutral about it. Like I really didn't care. Sure I had been depressed, but to a certain extent even I knew she wasn't gone forever.

We haven't broken up since then, so its been about three and a half years since the break up in 7th lets just say everybody feels like it is a long over due for another split for the 'inseparable couple'. Inseparable my ass.

Okay, don't get me wrong, I love Wendy. Really I do, its just I just need a break from her for a while. To clear my mind you know? To figure things out. So I don't keep feeling as if I'm cheating on her. I mean I love her, shes the only girl I ever loved, the girl I've imagined marring since age five, the girl I want to spend the rest of my life with. So I know I can't be in love with Kyle, because I love Wendy. I love Wendy. I have to.

God I'm so screwed up.