I once dated a boy that I worked with. I loved him even.
I didn't want to date him, I resisted, he persisted. He was cute and sweet and tried everything to date me. I had tried that work/date thing and it didn't work for me, so I didn't want to. His friends also worked with me, they asked me to a party, I went. I started dating the boy.
The story is as old as time. The more I liked him, the more he pulled away. "isn't this what you wanted, for me to like you?" I asked. His silence was my answer.
One day when he was in class I cleaned his room for him. I found his ex girlfriend's name written on his books, I knew of her, she moved on. He tried to move on, with me, but he couldn't.
I stopped calling, it was months, then he called me. It had been so long I didn't even know who it was. We started again. Heavy, deep, passionate, love.
She was still looming over our relationship, the one he couldn't have, his first love. I had to go.
If you want me, you need to only want me. I have never been good at sharing.
With my goodbye to him, I lost his friends. They were his after all, they had loyalties, it was only fair. I mourned my losses and moved on. I vowed never to date anyone I worked with again.
Breaking promises to myself was a habit, one I was glad I broke one last time, because at my next job I found my husband. Who persisted and I relented.
Now one of my ex's friends have found me again. A long lost friend. Although I will always miss G, I am glad to get to be friends with his friends.