We had ignored the fact that we knew each other’s names. We never questioned each other about it. We didn’t acknowledge the crushes we’d had on each other for years. We played it cool and after Bible study that night, said simple Goodbyes and went our separate ways.

But each week, the Boy Next Door had come back. He quickly became a regular at the Sunday night College Bible study, and also within my circle of friends. We’d quickly begun acknowledging each other at school and we chatted between classes and sat together to eat lunch amongst other friends.

The more I got to know him, the more I liked him.

The conversations between us came naturally and were always fun and easy. I began to think about him constantly when we were apart. I began snooping and inquiring whether he was going to be at certain gatherings before making my decision of whether or not to attend. I loved being around him and he seemed to enjoy being around me… but I wasn’t sure.

There were always a lot of other girls around, also vying for his attention. It seemed like he was treating me different than the others, special… but maybe that was all in my head. Maybe that was just what I wanted to believe.

Things moved very slowly over the next few months and that was fine by me!

Well…

Most of the time it was fine.

I’ll admit, there were moments when I just wished he would make a move… grab my hand, ask me out… something!

But I was also scared.

Scared to get involved again.

Scared of getting hurt.

Scared…. Scared…. Scared!

And besides that, I had a strict personal policy for myself of not dating any guy who I didn’t already know really well as a friend first. The couple of times I went out on dates with guys who weren’t friends first, the experiences turned out to be uncomfortable disasters!

Nope! Not for me.

Friends first, and then we’ll see what happens from there. So going slow with the Boy Next Door, and taking time just to get to know each other was a good thing.

And for five happy months we were nothing more than friends.

But then… on one December evening… I let the cat out of the bag.

To be continued…