I'm in the corner, watching you kiss her,
I'm right over here, why can't you see me?

I'm giving it my all, but I'm not the girl you're taking home.
I keep dancing on my own...

(Robyn, Dancing on my own)

The music's changed now. It's slower. Now's my chance. Even Leo and Janet are grinning at me with presumptuous smiles. I know it's now or never. I also know I finally have the courage to tell you how I've felt about you for the past six years.

Typical. Typical Harry. You've bloody disappeared. I can only assume you're revisiting the bar for the millionth time this evening, which is understandable enough I suppose, Institute dinners have never been the most beguiling social event on the calendar. As long as you're bringing me another chardonnay, I'm more than happy to excuse your brief disappearance.

Typical. Typical me.

I should have realised the possibility of you finding a gorgeous companion of sorts with whom to avoid the inevitable monotony of tonight. I should have known better than to assume the companion would be me.

Her arm is around your waist now, as she sips a reddish cocktail. She pulls you towards the dance floor. I can feel the familiarity of jealousy rising from within me.

I used to be so accomplished at deflecting my resentful thoughts about your lovers, but admitting to myself that you are the one I want, the one I need, has left the floodgates of emotion wide open.

She is claiming you as hers, and I can't watch.

Worse than that, I can't not watch. So I wait, disappointed once more.

But this time it's different. I'm no longer the one disappointing myself. It's you who is the root of my disappointment, and it hurts. It physically hurts that for the first time in our intimate friendship, I feel disappointed in you Harry Cunningham.

I was ready to lead you towards our future together. A future where the constant teasing, the lustful glances, and the soul-bearing discussions, are more than just wasted, fleeting emotions. But you have chosen her.

You're swaying in time to the rhythm, your bodies moving as one, closer than you and I have ever been when in that situation.

As she leans up to kiss you, I can feel your lips on mine, a merely ghostly presence from the few times we have almost given into the truth.

You accept her embrace, and my heart breaks.

I remember back to a wisdom I once imparted on you, without knowing just how true it would feel in this moment;

"It's an exquisite pain, being in love".

I retrieve my coat and turn to leave. It seems impossible now to imagine you as anything other than the unobtainable ideal. You were perfect to me.

So far away, but still so near,
the lights go on, the music dies,
but you don't see me, standing here,
I just came to say goodbye...

I have tried all night to divert my attention. You look absolutely stunning, angelic even, but you never seem to realise it for yourself. I wish I had the courage to let you know just how dazzling you are tonight.

It takes every ounce of my energy at work not to tell you how I have felt about you for the last six years. I dream of holding you close and assuring you I'll always be there for you, like I know no-one ever has before. You deserve that.

But, I always dream, and never act, because of a fear that I do not deserve you. A fear that also believes you could never feel the things I feel. No one else could ever know a love like the one I have reserved only for you.

I know I do not deserve you because I act as I have tonight. I am selfish, willing to test your response to every situation as a measure of your affection for me.

I am kissing a perfect stranger, all the while aware that you are watching from the corner. And I find myself hoping that it tears you apart inside. I want you to walk away from here, because when you do, I know it'll be because you love me.

I have waited till now to know of your feelings for me and, cowardly as I am, this is how I choose to decipher the ever-changing dynamic of our complicated relationship.

I know that if you leave here tonight without me, I will finally have the courage to tell you exactly how I feel. The note I have left in your coat will ease your pain, and you'll accept my selfish reasons, because you're you, Nikki Alexander.

I am standing at the door to the grand hall, watching you walk away into the darkness. My heart sinks as I realise you may keep walking.

Then you reach into your coat pocket and pull out the scrap of paper left there out of cowardice, but ultimately, love.

You pause to read the five words I have always hoped would mean the earth to you, but worried would mean the end of our friendship.

The five words which, unbelievably, have led us to now; our lips pressed together, this time in meaningful synchronicity, and our hearts full of hope and anticipation for the future.

You are perfect to me.