Marcus and I grew to be really close friends over the next few months. We were so similar in personality, it seemed like such a natural friendship (If you're into the Myers-Briggs/Jung Typology assessments, which I am, I'm an INFJ and he turned out to be an ENFJ; definitely a good match). We had so much fun together, and we enjoyed a depth to our friendship that only happens between best friends. We were together almost all the time, "thick as thieves" as the saying goes.
He was so strikingly handsome, I knew that from the moment I saw him, but I became more and more attracted to him as our friendship grew. He was so intelligent, so funny, so kind and thoughtful. He was also fiercely loyal to his friends. I found out later that he stood up for me on a couple of occasions (despite being confident enough to command respect from others, I still had to put up with the music major stereotype). He never knew I had a soft spot for him, and that's the way I intended things to be. He was, after all, already in a relationship and I wasn't willing to risk his friendship by telling him how I felt, let alone that I was gay.
About halfway through the semester, we decided to make a little tradition of Friday mornings. We'd both been coffee drinkers since high school, so we decided that each Friday morning, after my music history class finished, we would get together in my room and try new coffee blends. The coffee part was nice, but both of us were really in it for the conversation. We talked about whatever was on our minds; our friends, our classes, family, music, movies - whatever we felt like talking about. One Friday morning, the week before Thanksgiving, our conversation turned toward his girlfriend, Julie. Despite his relationship with her, she hadn't come up as a topic of conversation very much before.
"So, I need to ask your advice on something," he said.
"Sure, go ahead."
"Well, I've been thinking about breaking up with Julie." The way he said it was so matter-of-fact, I almost asked him to repeat himself. I had no idea what to say.
"What got you thinking about that?"
"Well," he started, "I guess it's been building up over the past few months. When I left home, we had decided to make the long-distance thing work. It is definitely harder than I imagined, but I also feel like I've changed. I think that she's changed, too. I'm not sure we're the same people we were when I left for college."
"I don't know if I can be much help," I said. "I've never really had a serious girlfriend, never mind having to break up with one." Actually, I'd never had a girlfriend and didn't want one. But we weren't discussing my love life, we were talking about his.
"So you think I should do it?"
"I think," I paused, choosing my words very carefully, "that you shouldn't make any quick decisions. From what I gather, making a long-distance relationship work is really hard to do. And people do change over time. Think about it carefully. Take time to clarify your feelings, and, in the end, do what makes you happy."
"Ok. That's good advice, thanks."
Our conversation moved on to other things and eventually he left for his afternoon class. I spent the rest of the day with my thoughts. Over the course of getting to know him, I had disciplined myself to not get carried away with my crush, and with one statement he unknowingly and innocently swept aside my internal resolve. And, as if a damn had broke loose in my thoughts, my mind began to race with fantasy scenarios: he had ended things with Julie, I was holding him in my arms, we were having passionate sex.
"That will never happen," I told myself. I wished he hadn't brought that up. I wished he had asked about something else.
We took off for Thanksgiving Break a few days later. I had a great time at home with my family, but I couldn't help but wonder if he had broken up with Julie, or if they were still together. I had only been back on campus for a few hours on that Sunday, the last day of the Thanksgiving Break, when Marcus stopped in.
"Wanna grab some dinner? I'm starving," he said.
"Sure. Where to?"
"Someplace cheap!"
And with that, we headed out in search of food. We had been walking and talking for a few minutes, catching up, when I asked about Julie.
"Actually, we talked a lot about how we felt and what we wanted out of the relationship over break. That helped. We decided to stay together."
"I see. Well, I'm glad everything worked out." I really was happy for him; if Julie made him happy, then he had made the right choice. I also felt sadness. It was sadness that was deep and inescapable, it could have completely overwhelmed me if I allowed it.
Fortunately, the remainder of the semester proved to be full of distractions. Studying for finals and preparing for my music jury were consuming my whole life, or so it seemed. I was still able to hang out with Marcus a lot, although it took a great deal of effort to keep things the way they had been. The show must go on, after all. I was not going to lose his friendship - I was determined of that.
Eventually the time came for the two of us to part ways and head home for Christmas.
"See you in the New Year," he said cheerfully as we said goodbye at the T station. He was kind enough to carry one of my bags for me.
"Definitely. When are you getting back on campus?"
"I think I'm flying in the Saturday before classes start. When do you get back?"
"Well," I said, "I have to be back early for opera rehearsals. I'm not exactly sure what the schedule is for that, but I would imagine that I'll be back before you. Give me a call when your flight gets in."
"Sure thing. Have a great time at home!"
"Thanks, you too!"
And with that, I boarded the train bound for Logan International Airport and my flight home for the three-week Christmas Break.
Christmas break was great, and very relaxing. I didn't really talk to Marcus during the break, though, except for a few text messages on Christmas Day and New Year's Eve. When the time came to fly back to school, I was ready to go. I liked being home, but I felt like my life was at school. I missed feeling independent, and I missed my friends. I missed Marcus.
I arrived on campus the Wednesday before the semester started for opera rehearsals. I was playing in the pit for the school's winter production: Gilbert and Sullivan's H.M.S. Pinafore. It was nice to be back, although being in rehearsals all day got a little tiring. Fortunately, our director had given us time off on Saturday evening, and I was looking forward to catching up with Marcus.
Saturday afternoon came and, following rehearsal, I turned on my phone to find a text message from Marcus. He had arrived on campus and wanted to know when I would be done with rehearsal.
I replied right away.
"I just finished with rehearsal. Wanna grab dinner?"
A moment later his reply came back: "I'll meet you in your room in 20."
About twenty minutes later I was back in my room. I had only been there a few minutes when Marcus opened the door. He walked in and I could tell something wasn't quite right.
"Hey, man! How was your break? Are you doing alright?" I asked cheerfully.
"Break was good," he said. Something was definitely wrong. "I need to talk to you."