Set fire...watch burn. Ash or Phoenix?

I am not now, nor have I ever been one to kiss and tell, but seeing as how there has been no kiss...all there is left for me is to tell.

This is the tale of the one that remains a shadowed figure atop the distant hill in each sunset of my mind. I first became aware of his existence during his stint as "replacement" best friend to my Best friend who I call Lady (above)

She would tell me about the adventures they would share and I found that with each conversation about him I would grow angry out of fear that this dude was going to be able to permanently take what was MINE! So, naturally, I hated him. >NOTICE: I am NOT a very jealous person at all, but I don't like things stolen from me, especially places. I'm her gay, funny BFF...it was territory that I had rightfully claimed and worked for<

At this point, I still had no idea what this guy looked like which, in retrospect, was much better than knowing. He was fucking gorgeous, which drove the knife deeper. I knew that I was done for. For her to take to him the way that she had meant that he had to be a strong personality as Lady isn't the easiest person to be around, she'll test what you think you know and let you know that she's right...you may think you know what your name is, but ten minutes around her and promise you'll second guess.

So now the no longer faceless opponent became formidable. And readers, let me assure you that this competition is COMPLETELY one sided as I'm quite sure that other than some stories shared about me from Lady to him were the only mentions of me that he had been made aware. NONETHELESS it was a competition!!!!

Well somewhere down the line, I stopped loathing him and began to admire him. I began to become thankful for someone genuine being able provide a solid friendship for Lady.

What that admiration has evolved to is actually more interestingly disturbing than sweet or cute. I think that I've almost made him the beta perfect. From what mutual friends have told me, he is everything that I've written about. A cracked diamond. Half a Picaso. One key short a masterpiece. Me.

I tend to over-think everything as being analytical appears to know only polar extremes in my life. I do fear the shattering of my visionary portrayal of the beautiful film that plays in my mind when thinking of him. But really all that I wish is for me to be able to accurately portray who I really am when it comes time to show him.