I've been watching you all through dinner. You seem normal, like nothing's going on, but I can see that you're out of sorts. Anger, misunderstanding. It makes me want to punch myself, because I'm a total asshole who was so afraid to ruin a friendship with my confession, and ended up making things worse with my silence. This year that we've grown apart has made me realize - it's not just sympathy. I love you, damnit...

Another sip of champagne flows down my throat as the birthday boy and the other guests continue to sing karaoke and dance. And we're sitting at the table like idiots. You're picking at your salad.