Let me set the scene: Jamie and I have been friends since the very first day of uni. We happened to be from the same area back home, we found each other dead funny and, of course, we’re both gay. Our immediate friendship was something that we thought would never change – until it did.
Over the years, we’ve each been in different romantic relationships with others, and consoled each other whenever it didn’t work out. In those harder times, we were able to make each other laugh. And when the laughter stopped, the tears began, and we knew we could count on each other to really listen. I know I’ve loved Jamie for a long time.
Jamie’s the sort of woman with eyes you could never forget. Blue-grey, green magic. But I do remember the first time I thought: ‘wow.’
Because it was in a way that I had never felt before.
Two years into uni, I was away in Paris when I got a series of the usual texts from Jamie. She’d sent a couple videos of her wearing different outfits for a party we were planning. After a while, I caught myself replaying each one over and over again, not entirely for the outfit, but to see her face.
I realised then that I missed her and wished she was there in Paris with me – more than that actually – I wished for more than the 4-euro wine, more than the Parisian lights and the cigarettes on the balcony; I wished to trade all of that just to be in her room helping her decide on an outfit, even if she would’ve made me face the wall.
It was Halloween when I asked if I could kiss her. I’ve heard so much about how kissing your friends is a no-no. I’ve heard how it can ruin friendships and make things weird. That Halloween night, she said yes. It was brilliant.
The next morning, I crafted a whole paragraph explaining how we could forget it ever happened. To my surprise and my delight, she text right back telling me that we don’t have to forget. Words can’t even describe how full my heart felt, though, I guarantee it would’ve felt just as full had we chosen to leave it in the past and carry on just being friends.
Kissing Jamie never made me feel like I was jeopardising our friendship. Our communication was too good for that; it would’ve been an insult to the connection we had built if I had felt that risk. That kiss was an understanding that happened to mean the same thing for each of us. Natural progression.
Almost a year later, we’re in a loving relationship built on a foundation of that understanding. It’s safe to say that a platonic love allows for a deeper romantic love, and mutual peace. The best outcomes, kisses or otherwise, stem from engaging with those who understand you best. Then again, I didn’t happen to kiss just any one of my friends that night – just the one with the most enchanting eyes.
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