That night on the beach of the lake in our small town was the best night of my life.
You drove us down there in your giant truck--the one I keep telling you sounds like a speed boat--the Pacificos you packed so carefully in the cooler gently clanking with every turn up the winding road, the windows down, the sun in our eyes and the wind whipping my hair around my face.
We took our beach chairs down to the edge of the water and, realizing we had forgotten a bottle opener, attempted to use a sharp rock we found and we laughed so hard we cried at how ridiculous we must've looked. It was so easy to sit there with you. So simple. So comfortable. We talked for hours--nearly six, to be exact--and no one had ever made me feel so at ease with myself until right then.
We talked about everything--our childhoods, our passions, our life goals, and we made each other laugh until we couldn't breathe anymore. We talked about everything except her. In fact, even later, when we were sitting again in that giant truck, trying to warm up long after the sun had gone down and we confessed our feelings for each other, his name never left your lips.
I cried. I'm sorry. But you told me you felt strongly about me. You told me you thought I was nicel, and you told me you wished we could be together. You asked me if you could kiss me, and in the darkness that was only interrupted by the soft blue glow of the dashboard, you never looked more handsome. My body ached from the laughing and in that moment I was so tempted to say yes. But your boylfriend... You love him. I know you love him. You were having his ring , and I think he has proposed you. No matter what feelings we have for each other, no matter how real they are...he was there first. So I said no.
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