Disclaimer: Not mine, never will be
Dedication: To people who review so positively!
There's nothing quite like realising you like something. Noticing new things that you realise you find endearing. Like a song. Realising that you actually like the bit where it goes 'ba-dad-da' when before you thought you liked the bit that went 'do-do-do-dooo!' Nothing like it.
It's like, where you thought you liked shapely legs that led up to short skirts covering round hips, actually, you like skinny legs covered in grey school trousers that only conceal flat hips and an equally flat arse. Like realising that you don't really like long, dark hair, tossed back with practised elegance, but the rough pull of a hand through the annoying fringy bits that hang on a forehead. Realising that long conversations whispered in the dorm at night mean more than a passionate session in the rarely visited parts of the Library with this month's fancy. That his kiss is better than hers ever was.
But then, it's the let down at the end that hurts more. Like in the song when you realise that, sod 'ba-dad-da' and 'do-do-do-dooo!', you actually dislike that song and much prefer every other one that ever was.
Finding that the distrustful glares hurt more than anything else ever did. That months of barely speaking really can't be resolved by one quick fuck. That one quick fuck doesn't even compare to the hours of making love that used to be. That maybe, just maybe, 'forever' is really: 'until you're formally outed as the spy'.
That best friends really do betray those they said they loved.