It's funny how things creep up on you, isn't it? 

You're going about your every day life and it's gradually becoming part of your normality. You accept it without ever noticing it materialise. It works its way into your routine and when it finally hits you (usually at a mundane moment in your life, like on a rainy Tuesday afternoon) you wonder just how long it's been going on, and how you never noticed it before. I'm not explaining myself very well, am I? OK. I mean, it's like when you find yourself singing along to a song you didn't know you knew the words to, and swear you've only heard once. Like when you rearrange your social schedule to avoid missing Coronation Street. Like when you fall in love with your best friend. Ok so now everything is becoming clearer...

Most of the aforementioned situations are unimportant, like the first two examples. You can laugh to yourself, and put them down to little quirks of your character; you can forget them. However, once in a blue moon you find yourself in a nasty, twisted situation like example number three. Bearing in mind we're speaking hypothetically here, and this point must not be forgotten. Every sentence, every word, every letter here on this page is hypothetical. And I am not defensive. But I am avoiding the issue. The hypothetical issue, that is.

What would you do if you woke up one morning and realised you were falling in love with your best friend? Easy. You fight it, don't you? You tell yourself, look, be sensible, he's your best friend. You can't feel this way, it's not right. You have to ignore it. 

So you do. And this can be done with ease all the time he is not in plain view. But when he's sitting opposite you at a table in the college library, frowning in concentration over the latest Spanish homework assignment, it's sort of difficult not to look. So hey, simple solution: you close your eyes and concentrate on your own silent verb conjugation. Pueda puedas pueda, podamos, podáis, puedan.  All is well until some perverse bastard forces your eyes open, your gaze up, and your attention far from the subjunctive of Poder , and nearer to what the object of your desire looks like in a tight pair of swimming shorts. (For future reference, this bastard is called Temptation. Yes, that's right: the same guy who holds you at spoon point with a pot of Häagen Dazs on your second day of your healthy eating plan, glues the Playstation controller to your hand while your homework screams pathetically from the depths of your rucksack, and slams your hand down on the snooze button that one, extra, fatal time and later laughs gleefully when you miss the bus.)

However, I digress. So, you're standing chatting with him (hypothetically) and he's making you laugh so hard you cry (not just tears of laughter but tears of frustration at the impossible situation, resentment of him for being so damn gorgeous, and anger at yourself for not having the sufficient brains to realise sooner the way you were starting to feel). And then, the biggest, most mind-numbingly tormenting complication walks up to him and pinches a part of him you so often admire when he bends down to pick up the pen/coin/book you accidentally deliberately made him drop. His girlfriend has arrived, looking devastatingly perfect as usual, and he obviously agrees. He delivers a cheeky, affectionate grin in her direction, slides his arm around her waist and squeezes her. You plaster that familiar fake smile on your face and pretend to be happy about their undying love for each other, while in your mind you calmly and collectively plot her demise. And the worst part is, you know that she knows. You have reached an unspoken, mutual agreement whereby you're nice to each other all the time, be it alone or in company, but deep down you both know you hate each other's guts. It works quite well. Until they wave goodbye and wander off somewhere private hand in hand, and you're left standing alone and forgotten.

Anyway, the point I'm trying to make here is, in this situation, although it may not seem like it, him having a girlfriend is actually a good thing (hypothetically). It helps you learn how to control your feelings in given situations. For example, you know you should never allow yourself to get carried away and flirt too openly with him, just in case his girlfriend walks in. Of course, in reality, you do the exact opposite: you flirt openly and obviously so his girlfriend sees (undoubtedly making a complete wazzock of yourself in the process) in the vain hope she will feel intimidated by your cool, laid back presence and will break up with him because she can't handle the pressure of an insecure relationship. But coming back to my point: all the time he has a girlfriend you know there's no hope for you. Even if when you're alone together he confuses things further by flirting madly and acting like he fancies you...

So after much deliberation and soul-searching (and many pots of Häagen Dazs) you decide that although you can't quench your feelings completely, you can sprinkle them with enough common sense to keep them under control until they eventually burn out. You disconnect the spark plugs to prevent the re-ignition of your desire, because even if he didn't have a girlfriend, nothing could ever happen between you for fear of ruining your valuable friendship. OK. Situation accepted. Life is resumed as normal. Because after all, he does have a girlfriend.

Only now he doesn't. They've split up and he is flirting mercilessly with you every spare minute.

That perverse bastard Temptation has reconnected the spark plugs, filled your fuel tank with desire and put the key in the ignition. And suddenly you find yourself standing alone with him at the bus stop and the main thought in your mind is, do I turn the key and take this dream machine for a test drive? And as he leans in for your first ever kiss, the answer comes clearly to you: most definitely YES. At long last, the dream has become reality and you drive off into the sunset leaving the ex-girlfriend coughing in your trail of dust. 

Life is sweet. Hypothetically.