The Boylet Chronicles - The Pitfalls of Falling

"Why can't it be more than friendship?"

I was sitting at the next table when the guy I had a crush on (and a recent boylet at the time) asked this to my friend that I set him up with just that night. The guy was smitten.

Already feeling miserable from some extra-strong antibiotics my doctor prescribed the day before and wearing 5-inch heels for the company year-end party we attended, my heart dropped to the floor when his attraction transferred to my pretty friend. They were a perfect match (at least I thought so at that time). He was attractive in an intelligent way accented by that DJ-like voice. He was smart and articulate to boot. She was petite and pretty with a mean understanding of philosophy and science (which I conveniently forgot as soon as I finished college.) The funny thing was, it was my idea to introduce them to each other because I just wasn't that interested in the guy (or so I thought). On hindsight, he was rather clingy - which I really didn't like - but that's a story for another day. Let's just say I was hoping against hope he found me worth pursuing too. Just my luck that when I pushed him to the other direction, he willingly went that way.

So I sat there in that 24-hour fastfood joint with a smile plastered to my face, trying so hard not to stare at the tender looks he kept giving to my friend. For once, one of my matchmaking schemes did work though I never knew I would feel hurt. I wanted to snatch one of those looks for myself. I just had them a few days before!

However, I knew it wasn't meant to be. Meantime girls don't get lucky in that part. And I volunteered the matchmaking in the first place. Inherent kindness and a weird code of ethics compelled me to follow through. I was the meantime girl. The one he had in between. He did say we were both adults and knew what we were getting into. In principle, I was sticking to that.

I saw the romance bloom in front of my eyes. I plastered that smile to hide the loss, pain and letting go of something I couldn't have. Okay, okay. I didn't quite hide the pain very well but I blamed them on my fab heels, which by the time he remembered to ask about my welfare, I was already holding in my hands while I hobbled behind them barefoot.

I know, I know. I wasn't as casual about the encounter as I wanted to be. Female that I was, I still needed to feel something to do it with the guy. But I knew we didn't have a future anyway (and call it intuition because I was right not to go that way). Still, I wanted to say "Hey, he was mine first!". No, I didn't. I know a hopeless case when I see it. (Do credit me for having a bit of self-preservation.)

If I learned anything about that long-ago episode, it was to never, ever fall for the guy. Even just a bit. Oscar best actress awardee I am not. Not unless you have a really good excuse to look miserable (like really strong side-effects from meds or a bad decision to wear really high heels because they made your legs look good), just stay clear of falling for the guy.