subject line: here's the end.

 
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Tubsy, Washington

My best friend is going to propose. After taking a train up to a bridge that signifies so much because of a book, he will get on one knee. And there will probably be flowers blooming and a long kiss and a big diamond ring. Because I know him. I’ve known him since we were fifteen years old. He’s a planner, and a good one at that.

My best friend is going to propose. To another girl.

He told me last night. I helped him plan the train ride. I showed him where to find the bridge. I pointed him to the exact passage in the book.
I never thought this would be my life. I thought it would be like all the story books. I thought I was gonna be the girl on the damn bridge because that’s how it was supposed to go. But she showed up six months ago and interrupted what I thought was the best ten year friendship about to become the best romance. I always thought those movies were silly, the ones with the best friend who is slighted and lives a life of unrequited love while he finds someone else, just a little better. And she either confesses or doesn’t.
I never confessed.
I never will.
Because I just helped plan a proposal that is actually my funeral, and if nothing says “I give up” like that, I don’t know what does. This is the end of the road for us. Ten years later. I still remember sitting in that tree with him, beginning to think he would be someone I could get along with. Sharing flannels and books. All the years of conversations. Crying. Laughing. Driving. Necklaces and flowers. Unspoken attraction.
And then the interruption of her.

I was so afraid I’d lose him that I dared to celebrate him loving her. I never thought we’d actually get to today. I didn’t plan for this.
But I guess I did.

I just helped my best friend plan his proposal to another girl. Those movies about your best friend’s wedding? Those are real. I’m living one.