I spent three years dropping the most obvious hints on my best friend Jake, and he missed every single one. Looking back, I'm honestly impressed by how oblivious one person can be.
It started junior year of college when we became study partners for organic chemistry. Jake was this sweet, funny guy who could make me laugh even when I was stressed about exams. The problem was, he was also completely clueless when it came to reading social cues.
The first hint I dropped was bringing him coffee every morning before our 8 AM class. Not just any coffee - his exact order from the campus Starbucks that was twenty minutes out of my way. Venti dark roast, two sugars, splash of cream. I did this for three months straight, even when I was running late or broke.
His response? "Thanks, you're such a good friend. I wish more people were as thoughtful as you."
Strike one.
Then I started inviting him to everything. Movie nights in my dorm room where I'd dim the lights and sit close enough that our arms touched. Study sessions that lasted until 2 AM where we'd end up talking about everything except chemistry. I even invited him as my plus-one to my sorority's formal dance.
He showed up to the formal in a nice suit, told me I looked beautiful, and then spent the entire night asking if I'd seen any cute guys I wanted to dance with. He literally tried to be my wingman at an event where I brought him as my date.
Strike two.
By senior year, I was getting desperate. I started complimenting him constantly. "Jake, you have such amazing eyes." "You're so smart, I could listen to you explain chemistry all day." "You smell really good, what cologne is that?"
He'd always respond with something like, "Aw, thanks! You're the best friend a guy could ask for." Friend. Always friend.
The breaking point came during spring break our senior year. A group of us rented a beach house, and somehow Jake and I ended up sharing a room with only one bed. I thought this was finally my chance. I wore my cutest pajamas, suggested we watch a romantic movie, and even fake-shivered so he'd put his arm around me.
We're lying there in the dark after the movie, and I'm practically cuddled up against his chest. I can hear his heartbeat, and I'm thinking this is it. This is the moment. So I look up at him and say, "Jake, don't you think we have amazing chemistry together?"
And this absolute genius responds with, "Yeah, we're definitely going to ace our final exam next week."
I wanted to scream.
The next morning at breakfast, our friend Sarah asked us how we slept, giving us this knowing look. Jake launches into this whole explanation about how great it was to have a friend who doesn't make things weird by snoring or hogging the covers. "It's so nice to have a friendship where there's no awkward romantic tension," he said, while buttering his toast. "We're just completely comfortable with each other."
I excused myself to go cry in the bathroom.
That's when I decided enough was enough. When we got back to campus, I marched up to his dorm room and knocked on his door. He opened it with that same sweet smile that had been driving me crazy for three years.
"Jake," I said, "I need to tell you something, and I need you to listen without interrupting."
"Sure, what's up?"
"I have been flirting with you for three years. Three years, Jake. The coffee every morning? I was showing you I cared. The formal dance? That was a date. The compliments, the movie nights, the sharing a bed? I've been trying to tell you that I like you. Not as a friend. I'm attracted to you. I want to date you. I want to kiss you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
He stared at me for what felt like forever, and I could literally see the gears turning in his head. Then his face went through about fifteen different expressions - confusion, realization, embarrassment, and finally something that looked like relief.
"Wait," he said slowly, "you mean all those times you..."
"Yes."
"And when you said I smelled good..."
"I was flirting with you."
"And the beach house..."
"I was trying to make a move."
He ran his hands through his hair and started laughing. Not mean laughing, but this incredulous, can't-believe-it laughing.
"Emma, I have had the biggest crush on you since sophomore year, but I thought you were completely out of my league. I convinced myself that you were just being nice because you felt sorry for me. I thought if I tried anything, I'd ruin our friendship."
I stared at him. "Are you kidding me?"
"I thought you bringing me coffee meant you saw me as a charity case. I thought you invited me to the formal because you couldn't find a real date. I thought you were just being a good friend."
"Jake, what girl brings you coffee every single day for months just to be nice?"
"I don't know! I thought you were just really, really nice!"
We stood there looking at each other, both realizing we'd wasted three years being idiots. Then he stepped closer and said, "So, uh, would you like to go on an actual date? Like, where I know it's a date?"
"I thought you'd never ask."
He kissed me right there in his doorway, and it was worth every frustrating hint I'd dropped and every oblivious response he'd given.
We've been together for two years now, and he still brings up new things he realizes were flirting. Just last week he said, "Wait, when you used to play with your hair when you talked to me, was that a hint too?"
Men. I swear.