I looked around the dimly lit auditorium and made eye contact with him. That one guy who I knew liked me but I never gave him the time of day. I had just gotten out of a disastrous three-year string of relationships. I didn't want a relationship and if I did, I didn't think it'd be with him. There was nothing wrong with him, really. We had actually become really good friends since the beginning of our fall play this year. I had known him from last year but I never really talked to him. But this year, he made an effort.

He talked to me. Invited me to hang out. He was fun. His best friend had told me just a week back, outside the school, in the chilly November air with cigarette smoke and visible breath leaking out of his mouth, "You know, Gabe likes you. He's had the biggest crush on you since last year". So when my director asked us to find a partner to write our senior one act plays with, and my eyes landed on him, I knew he had been staring at me. Hoping I'd stare back. What did I have to lose?

"Hey, want to be partners?"

Let me promise you something, you won't know your life is about to change until it's already been flipped upside down and thrown out the window of some old abandoned barn behind your future boyfriend's house. And trust me, I know that this was all meant to be because he wasn't exactly good at winning the girl. One time, before I really knew him, he told me, "You smell different when you''re awake", and then promptly stood up and left. The first time we hung out, he invited a girl he was romantically interested in and I essentially became the unsuspecting third wheel. The second time we hung out, he invited another girl he had once talked to. He took me to the movies and paid for my ticket, but somehow ignored my eager fingers resting on the armrest waiting to be held. But, talking to him was different than anything I had known in the past two years. It felt like the first time I had ever had a crush.

We talked for hours after writing bits and pieces of our script. When I offered him a snuggie in place of a blanket, he just laughed and accepted it. I made up excuses to stay late. All the while, I tried to convince myself I didn't like him. I wanted to pretend when my palms sweated when I sent him my favorite music that it was because I wanted him to like my taste not because I wanted him to like me. I wanted to pretend that texting him was platonic; I actually had the audacity to tell my friends I was afraid I was leading him on, like I wasn't head over heels.

I kissed him first. It was the last night of script writing and I wouldn't have an excuse to come over anymore. We were listening to music at half volume in his dimly lit room his comforter was red with a Buddha on it. I had never done anything so impulsive, so brave. He brings out the best in me. He made me feel loved and cared about and appreciated and pretty and smart when I was at the lowest point in my life. I felt a connection deeper and better than with any boy or honestly any person I've ever met.

He was my best friend instantly, before we even said "I love you" for the first time. We laughed, we held hands in the cold December frost, kicking snow on the curb, driving around, climbing under bridges and just living life together. Stupid, mundane things like homework and running errands were fun with him. Dating my best friend was the best choice I've ever made.

Everyone we know sees it. I know they do. My friends told me that they couldn't even remember us without each other when we'd only been dating for a few months. And I can sit here and tell you how perfect we are, how we never fight and we always handle situations with maturity, how we're always head over heels in love and how we've never hurt each other. That would be a damn lie. Sometimes we're explosive and impulsive and we break up just to get back together an hour later. Sometimes he does stupid things and sometimes I say stupid words and now that we're in a long distance relationship, some days I wake up and it hurts like hell. But everyday, on the good days and the bad days, I wake up and make a choice to fall in love with him, to make him happy and to be happy.

Contrary to what most people think, love isn't a feeling, it's a choice. Sure the initial connection has to be there, but someday the fireworks are going to be gone and I still have to call him up and ask him what we're going to do to get them back. I've never experienced this choice before because I've never fallen in love with my best friend. Losing him isn't an option because I wouldn't just lose my boyfriend; I'm not afraid of being single. I would lose my best friend, my life companion, my confidant, my Sunday afternoon plans. Like I said, you don't know your life is about to change when it's about to change. I didn't know making eye contact with some kid at 9 pm on a Wednesday evening in my school auditorium would make every part of my life fall into place. But it did. And if I can advocate for anything in relationships and love, it's to fall in love with your best friend because that's what has separated him from any other person I've ever met.