It hit me mid-conversation — that tiny, shameful thought that shows up uninvited, like a mosquito in your brain. My best friend was telling me how wonderful her boyfriend was, how thoughtful, how sweet, how he remembered to bring her an iced coffee without even being asked — and my brain went, huh, must be nice.
Then it got worse.
Somewhere between her third compliment and my third sip of wine, I found myself wondering if he’d notice me. Just for a second. Not in a “ruin a friendship” way — more like a harmless curiosity. The mental equivalent of trying on a jacket you know you can’t afford, just to see if it fits.
Okay, Here’s What Happened
We were all hanging out, laughing, eating takeout, and he was being too charming. He refilled everyone’s drinks without being asked, made a dumb joke that actually landed, and smiled in that “I know I’m likeable” way. And I swear, for one traitorous moment, I thought: No wonder she’s happy.
It wasn’t attraction so much as fascination — the way someone else’s good relationship can look like a shiny new toy when yours feels like it came from the discount bin. I started mentally cataloging the reasons I’d never date him: too polite, too tall, too into CrossFit. But my brain — nosy little gremlin that it is — refused to move on.
It whispered, but could you, though?
And then I hated myself for it. I stared at my friend, who was glowing and in love, and I felt this weird mix of admiration, envy, and guilt all tangled up in one messy emotional knot.
Why My Brain Does This
It’s not that I want her boyfriend. I want what he represents — that easy connection, the feeling of being chosen, that smug little confidence that comes from being adored. My brain didn’t crave the guy; it craved the validation.
It’s like seeing someone win the emotional lottery and thinking, maybe if I bought a ticket… even though you’d never actually gamble with something that real.
I think everyone has those flickers — harmless, stupid, curious thoughts that flash by and make you question your morals for five seconds before your sanity steps in and slaps you across the face. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad person; it means you’re human enough to get jealous and self-aware enough to stop it before it turns into anything else.
File This Under “Harmless Chaos”
By the time dessert showed up, I was fine again. The intrusive thought had faded, replaced by the comfort of laughing too loud and stealing fries off her plate.
He said something sweet to her, and instead of feeling weird, I just smiled — partly at them, partly at myself. Because yeah, I’d had the thought. I’d walked up to the edge of bad behavior and peeked over. And then I stepped back like a sane, functioning adult who just happens to be mildly chaotic on the inside.
So no, I don’t want my friend’s boyfriend. I just want to know that kind of attention exists — and maybe that someday, someone will remember my coffee order without having to ask.
Until then, I’ll keep my fantasies right where they belong: in my head, labeled clearly under “Do Not Act On — Ever.”
No responses yet