You know, life is weird sometimes.

You might be saying, Well, yeah, duh, but geez, kind of rude of you to interrupt! At least let me give you my reason first.

See, I grew up with this guy named Arthur Kirkland. We've been best friends pretty much since we were born, because our parents were pals. We went to daycare, preschool, regular school and all that together (except for, like, two months when we were fighting in eighth grade and didn't talk to each other; that sucked). I know him like I know myself, and I'm sure he knows me just about as well.

Fine so far, right? Nothing weird about having a best friend. Weird part is: around about the middle part of our tenth grade year, I started noticing that, wow, Arthur sure is sort of hot, isn't he?

That is a weird thought to have about your best friend, I don't care who you are. Doubly weird since I was pretty much exclusively into girls back then. So for a couple years, there I was with this gigantic crush on Artie (which is what I call him, even though he pretends to hate it), but nothing really changed because it was easy to hide from everyone. Well, except my bro Matthew, but seriously, how are you supposed to keep anything from a guy you share a room with?

After graduation we went to different places for school. Artie went to some big-wig university in England, where he was born, and I stayed in the States to follow in my dad's footsteps and become a mechanic. We still talked a lot, on the phone and through IM, but I guess my crush did fade a little and I figured liking him "like that" was a phase.

Okay, so fast forward a few years and we're both ready to set out on our own and get jobs and stuff. Artie decided to come back to the States and said, "Hey, wouldn't it be a great idea if we lived together for a while, to make paying bills easier?" And I was like, "Yeah, totally!"

But when I went to pick him up at the airport the day he got back, which was about a month ago, it was like WHAM! That little crush that I thought was history? It came back. With a vengeance. It was like the Batman of crushes.

He didn't really look all that different. Maybe he was a little less skinny than senior year, but that was it. His hair was still blond and messy, his eyes were still green, his eyebrows were still... his eyebrows. But something about seeing him after all that time, standing there with one hand on his suitcase handle and the other on his hip, tapping his foot impatiently, just... I don't know, left me breathless? Dumb as that sounds.

It didn't take all that long after picking him up and helping him get settled into the two-bedroom apartment we were renting to come the conclusion that I had it for him. Bad.

You can see how this is kind of a problem, right? No? Okay, then let me spell it out for you: Me and Artie, we share a tiny, tiny apartment. Two bedrooms, one bathroom, one kitchenette and this one miscellaneous room that kind of doubles as a living room and study. That's not a lot of space for two people, which means that when the both of us are home, we tend to be in close proximity. Close proximity. Plus, our schedules match up so that we both have free time at the same time. (I'm usually at the garage from 10 to 6, and he's still looking for a job, sooooo...)

Point being, we end up spending a whole bunch of time together, which I don't hate or anything. Except when he's in a pissy mood, hanging out with Artie is awesome. We wouldn't have been friends for years and years if it wasnt.

But Alfred, you might be asking. If you like spending time with him, what's the problem?

Fair question. Answer: the more time we spend around each other, the more opportunity I have to be a dumbass and let it slip that I have the hots for him. Which would be bad.

Why? you say?

Well, see, there are actually a couple issues.

One: we're both guys. No such a huge deal for him, maybe. Since he was 14, Artie hasn't kept the fact that he goes for dudes a secret. Me, though? I like girls and guys. Thing is, no one knows about that. It's not that I'm... I don't know, ashamed or whatever. I just don't know what my folks would think about it. I mean, my mom's a sweetheart and my dad's the coolest guy ever, but they're real conservative, you know? They go to church twice a week, always vote Republican, all that fun stuff. I don't know what they'd think about having a son who's at least half-homo.

Two: I'm 98.3% sure that Artie doesn't exactly return my sentiments. At best, he probably thinks of me as a brother, and I don't think he'd wanna boink his brother. At least I hope not, because if I'm honest his brothers are pretty hot themselves and- YEAH, abandoning that train of thought right there.

So basically, I'm spending most of my time hanging around a guy who I've known for years that I'm most definitely in some degree of love with; a guy who most definitely does not feel the same way about me. If you don't see how that's mega-depressing, you're even slower than Artie likes to say I am.

So far, I've been using a tactic I like to call, "Ignore it and it'll go away eventually," though with the way that's working it looks like "eventually" actually means "never". At this rate I'll probably be left pining after a person I can never be with until the end of my days, at which point I'll die a lonely and bitter death, like in all those sad books my buddy Kiku reads.

Now Alfred, don't you think you're being over-dramatic? you say. First of all, you totally sound like Artie when you say that. Second of all, no. No I don't.