My friendship with Monica was a consequence of our mothers’ friendship. They lived next door to each other, went to the same school, and had long been great friends. I was born a year early to my mom, and then Monica was born. Because of this we also became friends, and even as kids we made jokes about growing up, falling in love, and getting married. Jokes are jokes, but I really liked Monica for a long time. We had common topics to talk about, we learned the world of computer games together, and we spent our weekends together. In addition, she was one of the few girls in my circle.
Monica didn’t have feelings for me as such. On the contrary, she was the first to start dating boys, going on dates and breaking my heart with her behavior. My close friends, who knew I was in love, told me to take a risk and confess, and the rest would be as it was, but I was afraid. What if it would ruin our friendship so much that we could no longer communicate and I would not even be able to see her as a friend?
A few times I tried to make a surprise confession while she wasn’t serious with her boyfriends, but when she started to talk about the impressiveness of her relationship with her college boyfriend, I lost faith in myself. I went to a bar to mend my broken heart, drank all I could, and passed out at home, as I thought I would.
In the morning I was awakened by the insistent ringing of the doorbell. Monica was standing on the doorstep. She had brought a bag of fresh croissants from the bakery and still hot coffee. She was in a great mood, which annoyed me knowingly. She’s happy and I’m sad…
– I chose the tastiest ones for you,” she could not resist at the table, watching me eat. – Do you like it?
– Why are you here so early? He let you go? – I asked frowningly.
– We broke up a long time ago, I told you yesterday.
I was sure that even in the morning she was proving that she was dating.
– When did you tell me that?
– Tonight, after your confession,” Monica laughed at my surprised look. – I knew you weren’t yourself. You told me a million and one times that you loved me, and you passed out when I tried to tell you that I loved you, too. I suspect you had a lot to drink last night and that’s why you didn’t remember anything. But you were sincere, weren’t you?
I nodded stupidly. Did I really call her last night? And confessed with all my courage in my fist?
Monica’s warm and tight embrace confirmed her words and my hunches. I had only to hug her back, glad that I had thought of such a stupid thing and called her with a confession.
