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A Heated Debate

It was the middle of a sleepness night, and I was nestled in bed next to my friend Josh. I could hear the occasional car pass on Lyndale Avenue, and the faint street noise combined with the tiny bedroom’s warmth made the strange bed felt an awful lot like home. Maybe, just maybe, it had something to do with the man next to me. Much to my surprise, I felt decidedly drawn to him on so many levels, and this discovery had spurred a heated debate in my head.

What if we kissed and I didn’t feel anything? Was it worth risking our 11-year friendship? Was Josh lying there wondering the same thing, or was he fast asleep, void of the magnetism that I felt? The alarm clock revealed that it had been hours since we returned from our late-night dinner, and I was pretty sure that if I didn’t do anything, I would lie there in agony until the sun came up. So I slowly reached over and took one of his hands in mine, nuzzling it close to me like a baby with her lovie.

I dared to look at his face, and despite the darkness, I could sense his brown eyes on me. We lay in silence, me clutching his hand and he affirming my touch with a soft squeeze. Finally, I whispered, “I just don’t want to mess things up,” and he had the good sense to kiss me. It was disorienting to cross that threshold with such an old friend, but it wasn’t just weird; it was weird-good, and I knew right away that it was entirely worth the risk.

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