You and Andrew had been best friends since before you could remember. Meeting in kindergarten and being absolutely inseparable ever since.

Though unknown to you, Andrew had been in love with you for years. It started in grade one, a simple crush, sharing his toys with you at recess, colouring with you during playdates. A crush.

Andrew thought that it couldn’t get anymore intense than a simple fancying. But, oh boy, was he wrong.

It wasn't a gradual discovery but rather a sudden awakening, a revelation that made his heartbeat quicken and his thoughts swirl into a chaotic dance. The sight of you at the eighth grade graduation was all it took.

But, he had to savour this friendship. It was all he had. If it all disappeared, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

As the days and nights merged into a hazy blur, Andrew’s mind was perpetually consumed with thoughts of you. Sleep became a rare luxury, replaced by nights spent drowning his heartache in the bottle. The taste of alcohol became a familiar companion.

Every gulp was an attempt to numb the ache in his chest, to forget the impossible love that had taken root within him. Each drink was an act of defiance against the reality that seemed determined to keep you both apart.

In his inebriated state, reason and caution were casualties of the night. The boundaries he had worked so hard to uphold faded away, replaced by a recklessness fuelled by alcohol and despair. A part of him knew it was a terrible idea, but the ache in his chest was too strong to ignore.

With a mixture of determination and unsteady footing, he stumbled towards your house, his steps faltering as he did so.

Upon the opening of your door, a look of concern grazed over your features, and Andrew was met with a ‘God, you look rough’.

“I promise you, I’ll look good when I’m sober…” He muttered in a drunken slur, a lazy smile across his lips.

“But, just hear me out, or let me in…” He pleaded, leaning his shoulder against the doorway.