I keep thinking of this comic in relation to my current situation...
I was living in a different city when I started talking to my ex-boyfriend (I'll call him Nick) again. One thing led to another, and we started dating again.
About three months later, I moved back to the city where he lived, and in with my best friends. That's when I met "him." He (let's call him Tom) was living with my best friends during summer semester, and within about a week of me living there, he was my best friend. I was looking forward to seeing him when I got home more than anything, and I was going out of my way to hang out with him. I didn't really realize what was going on until August came and he moved out, when I was terrified that we wouldn't see each other anymore because now I had no excuse. It was then that I realized what had happened... of course, I'd been immediately attracted to Tom, but it was when he moved out that I finally sat down and evaluated my feelings, and realized that for the first time I had a major regret; getting back together with my Nick before I'd met him.
We kept hanging out, only now everything was twinged with guilt. I felt enormously responsible for getting back together with my Nick, and felt like he was worth more than breaking up with just to be with someone else... even if that someone else seemed to be all I ever thought about. Anyway, at precisely the same time that Tom moved out, my boyfriend moved in under an agreement he'[d had with my roommates prior to me moving in. It put me in an awkward place. I originally intended to make him crash outside my room, but it offended him that I didn't want him to sleep in the same bed as me, even if it would have normally been okay. While Nick was at work Tom would come over and hang out, and I couldn't help but feel guilty every time my boyfriend came home from work to find us sitting out on the balcony talking (which was every night). I tried to stop thinking about it, but I was suffering, and everyone noticed.
Around this time, a new friend joined our little group (we'll call her Lauren), and started hanging out with us a lot. Lauren had become one of my female best friends, and I really enjoyed hanging out with her. What I didn't enjoy was watching as her and Tom steadily worked toward dating. I told myself repeatedly that it was best, that if he was in a relationship I'd feel a little better, that I wanted Laura to be happy too, but every time I saw them together I would be sick.
I started on a bit of a bender, trying to drink my way through the problem... of course, my boyfriend knew something was wrong... a few weeks later, he moved out to "give me space." I decided to give it two weeks after he moved out, and then break up with him. I wasn't going to leave him for Tom or anything, I didn't even know whether my feelings were reciprocated, and suspected they were not... All I wanted was to be happy again, and to be more fair to Nick. Fast forward a week and a half, and I get invited to this dance thing at the Uni. I figure what the hell and go, but seeing Tom and Laura together there just snaps something in me that night. My friends all agree to go back to my other friends apartment as usual, but I go home on the context of being tired. Of course, I actually go home and attack my vodka trying to tell myself everything will work out... when my phone buzzes. It's from Tom, and says "would you mind if I came over tomorrow and consumed a fair quantity of your alcohol?"
I say yes, but that there may not be much left, which based on my bender was highly probably. He decides to come over immediately instead, and at this point the alcohol and bitterness has mounted to the point where all I can think is how pathetic I must look, at home on a Saturday night, getting drunk alone.
He comes over, and proceeds to drink pretty heavily, and is quiet the whole time, which isn't like him. We're sitting in our usual place on the balcony when Nick shows up, also drunk.
He's supposed to be at work, but was so messed up he called out to get wasted at his friends. He goes on a long rant about how he doesn't care what's wrong, we can work through it, and how I'm his forever girl, and all sorts of things that just make me feel terrible, and I start crying. He finally gives up, and says he "has to let me go," and walks off. I's like a huge weight off my chest, and at this point I can't help but be relieved and a little happy for the first time in a very stressful couple of months.
Still, I begin to avoid Tom, and it's a few weeks before I decide to go out again, when I go over to my friend's apartment, where he cooks dinner for me, Laura, and Tom. Laura is of course all over Tom, trying to hold his hand and fall asleep on him while we watch movies out on the balcony, but he doesn't seem much into it, and shakes her off more than once. I try not to pay any attention, but when it's time to fall asleep (we sleep on that balcony about once a week after our little dinner parties), he moves to my side of the balcony and she seems really hurt. Now, I have tried my best to avoid him for a good two weeks, so we hadn't done this in a while, but before that I'd more than once been forced to sleep next to him on that cramped balcony and let me just say you do not know hell until you've been in the truest love you've ever felt with someone you know you can't have, and been forced to sleep on the equivalent of a half a twin bed with them. Still, I didn't have to feel guilty now, and it wasn't unusual for us to sleep like this, so I lay down. Our arms somehow end up pinned pretty close, and all the sudden we're holding hands. He doesn't even pretend to acknowledge it, so I assume he's just being friendly, I mean we all sleep pretty close normally so it's likely he's just holding my hand for expedience.
I can't sleep the whole night, and spend the next 6 or 7 hours just thinking about the feeling of his hand around mine... eventually our friends both have to leave for class, but Tom and I stay there enjoying the nice weather as the sun comes up. We start talking. And talk. And talk. And talk. We've spent a lot of nights staying up late just talking, but not like this. We lay on that balcony, holding hands and talking for about 5 hours. And finally, he kisses me.
Three months after I first realized I loved him, and barely 4 since I'd met him...
I never used to believe in love at first sight, but from the moment we met, something clicked between Tom and I.
And there's no better feeling in the world than when I'm with him.