Every time I move... which is a surprisingly frequent occurrence... I have this same ridiculous hope. That hope, is that at my going away party or some last hurrah... one of my guy friends would confess he's been crazy about me the whole time, and wishes I didn't have to go. We'd curse the fates, down our glasses of wine, and sneak off somewhere for one night of earth-shattering... amusement.
In the morning, we'd realize that this is how it was meant to be. It was a night neither of us will forget, but we're not sad to let it go, at least for the moment. After one last gripping kiss, I'd grab my bags and head to the airport. It would sting - leaving him behind - but as I stepped onto the plane, I'd feel like I was ready for anything. (And, that I'd be sure to have a reason to come back and visit.)
Anyhoodle, tonight I'm having my going away party. I'm about 99% positive this scenario won't happen, but you can't blame a girl for dreaming!