True Love Snapshot #4.

How else can I define love other than through that beautiful evening in April?

It was just another night in my spring semester, junior year of college. We were sitting inside your car, which was parked by one of our favorite spots in San Francisco at the end of another one of my long days, talking about everything and nothing and finishing off a late fast food dinner.

Outside, a cool evening breeze was blowing, ruffling the grass on this rocky cliff that sloped gently downwards, just a few feet away, into the dark waters of the Bay, whose waves I could faintly hear through your closed windows. Above us, the moon and a sparse scattering of stars peeked through the thin veil of fog.

I was in a particularly good mood that night, despite my exhaustion, happy that the weekly meeting of the Christian organization I had founded on campus – with your help – had gone well and had yielded a good turnout.

"Thanks again so much for coming tonight to play music and help set up," I said, feeling warm gratitude swell up within me. "I couldn't have done it without you."

You glanced up at me briefly and smiled as you stashed the remnants of our dinner into a brown bag. "Of course. I'm always here to help."

OF course, I already knew that. I knew that you, my best friend, would jump up and help anyone who needed it, especially me. It was your relentless "helpfulness" that got me into the predicament I was in…you always driving to pick me up late at night from theatre rehearsals and college parties, or take me to interviews for the articles I wrote. Yes, you "helping" by always picking up the phone or coming over to my apartment whenever I needed to talk to someone because I was homesick or having a bad day…you praying with me, singing with me, laughing with me, just being there.

We had been best friends for almost a year now, since I moved to the Bay. But over the past few months, after our countless drives around the city and late-night dinners and sometimes random, sometimes profound conversations, somewhere in between all of that, I had fallen in love with you.

I smiled back, popped my last French fry into my mouth and looked over at you, wondering if you had any idea at all that up until a few days before, I had been fighting those feelings off as hard as I could, not wanting to change or threaten a genuinely good friendship with these stupid emotions.

But then, you had danced with me at that fancy birthday party we attended together. Slow-danced, of all things! I let my mind replay that moment when you walked over to where I was standing, goofing around with my friends, took my hand and led me to the dance floor, choosing to ignore all the hooting and teasing of our friends (who thought they knew better than to think we were really still just best friends) all around us. It was then when I threw caution to the wind and allowed my heart to hope…

"Hello? Are you okay?" Your voice snapped me back to reality. You were trying not to laugh because I had spaced out again.

I nodded. "Yeah, I'm just really tired."

You gave me this pensive look, as though you were studying my face, a half-smile on your lips. Lately, you'd been doing that more and more often, and it made me uncomfortable, because I felt like you could read my thoughts and find out my secret.

"What?" I asked, almost defensively.

"Nothing," you answered. "I'm just thinking…and I'm also really tired, actually. Can I rest a bit before I drive you home?"

"Sure," I said, moving closer to you and offering my shoulder so that you could lean on it and take a quick nap.

But, to my surprise, instead of just resting your head on my shoulder. as you were inclined to do, you turned around completely and reclined against me, your head nestling just under my chin. Then you reached for my hands and pulled my arms around you, nestling them on your belly.

And, here's me, pleasantly surprised, wondering what's going on, but enjoying the moment too much to complain. After all, what was wrong with the scenario? Absolutely nothing. We were just two best friends, hanging out - well, practically cuddling.

We stayed in this position, outwardly comfortable, but inwardly, my heart and my head were in a tug-of-war. My sensible self was scolding me. You're not supposed to fall in love, remember? So push him away, pronto! But my heart was smiling, smiling so broadly that I could have sworn it made my lips do the same.

So I let you stay there, snuggled against my belly, seemingly relaxed and content.

And then you spoke. Once you did, there was absolutely no turning back.

"I like you." It was soft, almost a whisper, almost drowned out by the sound of the waves and the hum of cars moving past.

You straightened up, turned in your seat to face me, to actually look me in the eye, fondly, affectionately. I was shaking inside, disbelieving, but willed myself to return your gaze. You took my hand and spoke again.

"I like you. I really like you."

So....what do I say to that?

The truth?

I decided, yes, I'll go with the truth. "I like you too."

And there we were, sounding like two awkward teenagers who'd never dated before, when in reality we were two twenty-somethings with our fair share of past relationships. And yet, there was no awkwardness in the moment. There was only relief, and sincerity. Finally, I did not have to keep any more secrets from my best friend.

I can never end this story with a true sense of finality. Because in reality, it has not ended. Because in reality, we are still living it out, now as husband and wife, and still as best friends, a little over a decade later.

I will always look back on that night. Picture-perfect, a scene out of a chick flick. You in my arms and your words forever changing the course of our friendship. Because of that night, I now know what the rest of my life will look like, and who I will be spending it with. I'm very glad that it's you.

Not quite just friends.

*written March 2008.

You shared a moment with me.

You whispered in my ear.

You told me all the words

That women like me long to hear.

But what's wrong with this picture

If you viewed it from afar

Is that it's only shared by friends,
And that is all we are.

I would like to move closer

But I'm scared of what I'd find

That maybe this affection

Is only in my mind.

For if I fall in love with you

Should you choose not to catch me

This fragile heart would surely break

And would not mend so quickly.

So maybe for a moment

To avoid this friendship's end

We might as well steer clear of love

And just remain good friends.