You know you don't want to, but you can't stop the thoughts whipping through your mind.

Just do it. Just kiss him. You want this. Believe me.

But you don't want it, can't want it. This isn't how this is supposed to happen. Not now. Not here.

Supposed to happen? Since when is this supposed to happen?

And if it's inevitable, what's the point of stopping it now? Why pretend not to feel it when you do, and you have for so long?

You might as well do it now.

Kiss him. Get it over with. Don't think. Just do.

And it could be so perfect…

The cold wind in your hair replaced by fingertips hot against your scalp. Lips on yours, insistent, intuitive. His eyes centimeters from your own.

At that distance he’d be too close for either of you to misunderstand. Maybe that's all you really need.

Just get close enough so you won’t be able to deny it anymore.

It wouldn't be hard.

Slide down the rail to him. Don't break the silence.

He's looking at you in a way that's already pulling you there. It's impossible to stop. He's too close already, and you're still smiling.

It’s him, but it’s not him.

The corners of his mouth still hold those spots of wry amusement that appear when you’re laughing together. His hair is floppy and unkempt, like it was yesterday and the days before.

He’s still your best friend, but suddenly he’s also so much more. That boyish look leaves his face and instead his expression openly admits that he’d do anything to have you right now.

In the silence, everything is said.

How could you end up like this? The boat rocks gently in time to the flutter in your chest.

You want him too.

The clarity in his gaze is blinding.

For just one second, it's as if you've already spent hours lying in the grass, looking at the clouds, talking of your dreams, and hopes, planning to discover them together.

He's already said he loves you. You've said it too. And you mean it more with him than with Roy, because it's wondrous and delightful and so much better than you ever imagined.

But then suddenly it hits you that you haven't really done all this.

Even with his eyes begging you to believe otherwise, the fact remains.

He's never said a word.

But you want this more than anything.

Just move a little closer.

And it’s not that unexpected. In some ways you’ve waited for it longer than he has.

Reach out for his hand. He’ll take yours. This can happen.

Why is it that the things you want most are the ones you’re too scared to take? It’s back again, that familiar paralysis that’s kept you from living for as long as you can remember.

Why isn’t he saying something? He’s better at this than you are.

If only he could hear you screaming, “Just kiss me. Please just kiss me…”

Your eyes glaze over for a few seconds and you think about how different this moment would be with Roy.

Roy can be quiet, but not like this. There are no silences with Roy, just lack of sound.

And you can never be sure, what he's thinking when he's staring off into the distance, but you know that sometimes you'd rather not know.

Because sometimes he's thinking about those other girls. The ones that you'll never be because they're so tiny and giggly and sparkling, and that's just not you.

But Roy’s not here, and Jim’s face is so eloquent.

This shouldn’t be happening, but it is. It’s happening, and maybe this time it will stick.

So many little moments, but this could be the one.

Jim smiling at you from across the basketball court. Jim trying to keep a straight face while you pull doves across the ceiling. Jim holding your gaze as he hands you a sandwich by candlelight.

It could have happened then, but it didn’t. And you wonder why you’ve bothered to ignore it. Because it’s there. It’s always there.

And in this moment you could mold it with your fingers into something beautiful and permanent.

It’s dark and cold. The water beneath you could hold mysteries. And it’s just the two of you, together, but all alone. You should be clinging to him, but you can’t.

Instead you think about the blackness that surrounds you and the harsh yellow light that sweeps out with the drunken laughter from within. You wish you could paint this moment, because in doing so you could eliminate the sounds from inside.

Sever that last remaining tie with reality and you’d lose yourself in a world of darkness and starry reflections, where there’s no such thing as right or wrong.

Is it possible to kiss someone without really kissing them? Because that’s what this feels like. You can’t remember ever feeling so connected to another person without actually touching them.

Your thoughts unwind and meander down a forbidden path.

You can feel his hands on the bare skin of your stomach. His legs between yours. His teeth lightly scraping along your collarbone.

It’s a white-hot feeling, so sudden, so intense, and so real that you shiver unwillingly.

You can’t do this anymore. You’re too close to giving in.

You sigh and then lie to him one more time,

“I’m cold.”