So my best friend and I are basically a bad romcom. We’ve been friends since we were 11, but when we were 13, he moved to New Zealand (I’m in America). And we are like two sides to the same coin. It’s crazy. And I fell viscously in love with him, but I knew it was completely ridiculous. We live on opposite sides of the world. He can’t possibly love me back, right?
Flash forward to summer of 2018, we’re 19. He’s come back to the states to visit. I’m driving us back from a weekend at the lakes with another friend. I’ve decided that this was the night. I was going to tell him how I feel, get it over with, we could laugh a little and I would move on. By the time we reach his driveway, it’s midnight, and he starts fidgeting in the passenger seat. I’m mentally screaming “WTF, I’m the one who is about to confess their feelings!”
We roll into his drive way, and he turns to me.
“I have to tell you something,” he says, “but I’m not sure-“
This is my chance, I have to tell him, “Maybe I should go first, I love you.”
He laughs, because that’s what he was going to say. We plotted the same moment to confess our feelings! I get out of the car to give him a hug goodnight.
The sky is perfectly clear above us, the stars painting a perfect night as he picked me up in his arms bridal style. He spun me around in his arms, and my heart flew.