I didn’t know she was coming to the beach, I thought I was far enough from her. My heartbeat jumps through the roof at her sight and my head gets all tangled in my emotions for her. Even though I would like to kiss her my love, she is far from me and she is not alone but, more importantly, she has friend-zoned me.

---

Shelsea has been my friend for a year and a half, bonding pretty solidly since we first met through the book club. No subjects are off limits: politics, religion, and sexuality to name a few. Surprisingly, we love to talk about the latter, exposing many of our deepest desires around beers. Our friendship evolved with time, getting closer and closer, until one months ago when I had to spend a week at her place while mine was renovated.

It shouldn’t have changed anything in our relationship but it ended up being what led to my current state of mind. She invited me to sleep in her bed on Wednesday night. The pleasure we shared was sublime, the discovery of our bodies was electric, the feelings we expressed were intense. Then, Saturday was the coup de grâce. We fucked again but this time, it was so emotional, so intimate. We weren’t having sex, I felt we were making love.

Sunday morning came and I had to go back home, ending one of the most emotional weeks of my life. I was in pain during the bus ride, the loss of our closeness was difficult to bear. I bundled it up as best as I could but I knew I was hooked. We restarted our usual interactions, seeing each other in class or around beers but it wasn’t the same. I wanted to go back to her place, I wanted to live there, I wanted to sleep in her bed.

Then, she shared, around two Guinness, that she had an amazing time with another friend. Even though she didn’t explain what happened, I could gather that it was a night she will remember. I stayed friendly and engaged the best I could but deep inside I was brewing a darker mix than the drink I had in my hand, I was jealous.

The ugly emotion followed me all through the week, heavily clouding my mind and weighing on my heart like I never felt before. Although I was happy for her to have had that special moment, I couldn’t stop comparing my time with her, even though I knew it was unfair. When I couldn’t stand the pressure, I told her about my love for her and my jealousy of her adventure.

I feared her reaction, expecting her to walk away as I spooked her with my confession or, worse, that she would shut down our friendship. To my surprise, she was emphatic with me, although, she made clear that she wasn’t looking for a romantic relationship with me. I was friend-zoned in the most caring way I have ever experienced.

---

This brings us back to today, my friends have brought me to the beach to help change my mind, to relax from the emotions that have submerged me since that evening. I saw her as she walked in with a group of guys, all more masculine and beautiful than me. She gives them wide smiles, she shares so many laughs, she gets close to some.

My jealousy is through the roof, at the knowledge that she is flirting with others. I could have left, I could have moved to face the other way but I stubbornly look where I could keep an eye on her, hurting myself for the next three hours.

As I finish my sixth beer of the afternoon, I see her smooch one of the hunks, going for a full-on french kiss as she climbs over his tight and revealing swimming trunk. It breaks my heart, emptying my brain of hope, and letting my jealousy run through my body. What saves me from exposing my emotions to everyone is the sudden and intense rain, masking the pain running off my face.

As everyone hurries to pack their things, I stay under the torrent of water, facing the dark clouds to let my emotions be mixed with the rain. I cry and sob at my loss, at the cruel fate, at my inability to get over her. I don’t know how long I stay like this but I eventually sense a presence beside me.

I hear Shelsea say, “Jonathan, why are you staying in the rain?”

I open my eyes, brushing the mix of tears and water, to glance at my intimate friend. She looks at me with worried eyes, like she knows what I am going through. Slowly, she extends her hand, wetting it as it reaches out of the protection of the umbrella.

I’m at a crossroads. I could deny her hand and keep sulking under the rain, most likely hurting if not destroying my relationship with her. I could also take it and rise to stand beside her, taking the help she seems to offer. I look at it for a few seconds, weighing if I should take the easy road or the arduous one.

In the end, I choose the latter as I cannot think of my life without having her. She has been a beacon of light since she got into my life, assisting me to navigate through difficult roads. I have also been there for her, guiding her when she needed help, never shying away when she was hurting.

Taking her hand, I rise and stand under her umbrella, a feeling of tentative relief going through me. We gather my wet possessions, awkwardly chatting as we both know why I stayed under the deluge. The tense smile we exchange is full of hope that we can make our friendship work, that this is just a hiccup we can laugh about in a few years.