When I've not seen him for a while I can almost convince myself that I'm over-reacting. That what I think is love is just a strong friendship. I've never had a friend like him so it's conceivable that I simply got confused. That I read more into my feelings than there really is.
I shake my head and tell myself that everything will be OK. I'm with Hannah and we can be happy. He's happy with Sarah; everything is as it should be.
And then he opens the door, and he smiles at me.
For a second I can't move, I can hardly breathe, every fibre in my body aches for him and I know.
I want to tell him. I want to scream out loud and tell him how I feel when I'm near him. How I want to be the one he's with, the one he's kissing, the one he's loving.
Why can't he see how good we would be together? Why can't he tell that I love him?
Why can't I take the chance of letting him know?
But I'm can't, I'm afraid. If I tell him how I feel I could lose everything. If he turned away from me how would I cope? How would I survive without him in my life?
So he invites me inside and I say nothing.
We talk, we laugh, we joke. We're friends.
And I pretend like there's nothing wrong. I pretend that I don't die a little every time I see him with Sarah, every time he kisses her. That I don't scream inside when he takes her hand, when he smiles at her, when he holds her.
He's my friend. That's all he ever can be. That's all of him I can have and it has to be enough.
But it isn't.
And late a night I cry into my pillow the words that I can't say to him.
"Craig, I love you."