It’s such a nice feeling making my friends laugh when I can. Or when they make me laugh.

It’s almost intimate. You’re making a joke or an innuendo that only the two of you know in this moment. Shared history. Shared giggles.

I had fun with a friend today. We just hung out. Played music. Sang along. Café-hop. Go for a walk. It rained.

Sometimes this makes me realise how much I miss falling in love. For me, you become friends first. Best friends. There is banter, laughter, joy. All the good spices. Playfulness and touch. Flirty comments. But not sexual, not always. Rarely.

It warms my body. It fills my heart. To know someone in this specific way.

Then comes love. It grows. It’s always there. But you hang out with this person and it grows and is no longer a stream of thoughts but a pistachio cake. More rigid, but still soft. It’s taking shape.

I swear at one point I almost wanted to pull her cheeks and go “Cutu!” when she took her hair band off.

We’re not that close, nor am I so secure in my place in this friendship to be intimate like this. Without it being a thing, or causing a scene.

I swear – at one point – I wanted to lean in and kiss her.

But I am not that person. I adore this friendship too much to ruin it. I don’t think I could do it even with a less-close friend. I just can’t. Friendships are as sacred as romantic dates/partners are. I have trouble crossing boundaries (or being brave).

I know she isn’t queer. So why is this happening to me? I think I’m just lacking a romantic relationship. Because I don’t have that, I’m lashing out in less than ideal ways. I don’t like this.

I’ll sign in on Bumble today.