This is a story about love. It is not a love story.
Ten years ago I met a man. He was a friend of a guy I dated, the first guy to ever break my heart. Through many group outings, my boyfriend’s friend became my friend too. Despite a shared love of goth culture and music, he was completely different from my boyfriend in a thousand awesomely wonderful ways. He was funny and sweet and I genuinely enjoyed his company, sharing inside jokes about his harem of women (I was jokingly the “Thursday Night Girl”) and spending one-on-one time with him to dye his blonde hair black or to talk on the beach.
I didn’t know then just how important he would become to me.
