Over the next few weeks Joe and I continued to have the most amazing phone conversations. He was sweet, funny, and deep, and I…was so not into him. In my young mind there were two types of guys, Leo Guys and Joe Guys, and Joe was, well, a Joe Guy. I loved talking to him, in a lot of ways it was like talking to me. I wanted to want him, but I didn’t. There was just nothing there.

After weeks of phone calls, Joe asked me to come and hang out after school. I wanted to see him, but I was afraid that he would want to kiss me and it would be uncomfortable and I would lose someone who, in a short time, I had really come to rely on and cherish as a person, but I couldn’t put it off and I went.

We had the most wonderful time. We shared a lot of words and laughs that night without the slightest hint of awkwardness. There was no lag in conversation. It was so easy. I remember looking at him and thinking, “This guy is so cute and nice and funny and he gets me. What on earth is wrong with me?” The end of the night was drawing near and for the first time, I felt ill at ease. All I kept thinking was that I was going to lose this great guy. I was lost in my thoughts when Joe said, “Listen babe, I really like you and I don’t want to make you feel bad, but I’d kinda like to keep things as they are and not get messed up in all that romantic crap.”

I couldn’t help it, I laughed so hard I snorted, so not attractive. I’d been so busy wrapped up in my own mind I hadn’t even noticed that he felt the same way. Apparently Joe and I were more alike than I thought.

From that day on we were inseparable. Where ever you saw one, you saw the other. We spent a lot of time watching old movies and talking about the future. We went through a lot together in the next two years. I was there for him when his sister was in a car accident and when his parents got divorced. He held my hand when things fell flat with Leo, which is a topic for another post, and through many other failed relationships. His advice was both honest and harsh. I knew I could count on him to tell me the truth, even if it was difficult for me to hear (re, if I had gained a little weight and asked him he’d actually tell me).

No matter what went wrong in my life, I had an ace in the hole; someone who loved me with out the hassle of being involved sexually. It was great, until all of a sudden, seemingly out of the blue, I started to get a little tingle in my stomach when me and Joe were hanging out.

I started to care about what I said and started wearing makeup around him. It was as if I’d been in a dark room for years and someone finally flicked on the light. I hated it. I knew I couldn’t say anything, if he rejected me I’d be mortified and if he felt the same way we’d be putting a great friendship at risk. I was damned if I did and damned if I didn’t.

So, the only healthy thing for me to do was… to date his friend. I really tried to make it work with Anthony. He was so hot, but he was stupid in a way that Forest Gump never even dreamed about. That only lasted a few weeks (hey I said he was hot) and I was no closer to losing these feelings for Joe. So, I threw my friend Lana at him.

They dated briefly and it didn’t work. I remember one day she said to me, “It’s obvious you want him, so why are you trying to force it with us?” I was lost. If she could see through me, could he?

I began to put a lot of distance between me and Joe. I wouldn’t return his phone calls and was very cold to him when I saw him. I knew it was stupid, but I was out of options. For a few months Joe put in a lot of effort to salvage our bond, but I was already gone and eventually he admitted defeat and went on with his life.

For almost two years we had no contact. I dated and was in and out of relationships. I had a lot of ups and downs and I made a lot of friends, but no one really got me like Joe. No one else was brave enough to answer my questions with brutal honesty in a way that didn’t offend me. I could still hear Joe’s advice if I listened close enough; I could hear him laugh at me if I did something stupid, which I usually did.

I figured that Joe was out of my life forever and that I would never see him again… until we wound up at the same ski resort my freshman year of college.

I’ll post the last installment soon.