I once spent a year of my life in love with someone who called me "buddy". True fact.
"Jacob" was amazing. He was handsome, and kind, and funny. He was in the Army. He was smart, and passionate, and mature. He loved Jesus. He loved his family. He loved burgers. It couldn't have been more perfect.
I started spending time with Jacob after i broke up with "James" in my freshman year. We became friends instantly, and i fell in love with him in a matter of days. Jacob was a very practical, sheltered boy (he had been homeschooled) who didn't want to date while he was in college, as he was afraid girls would distract him. I didn't let that deter my dreams of marrying him, though. I was prepared to wait.
I still think that, if he hadn't transferred to a school in Virginia, we would have gotten together sooner or later. He liked me, he just didn't really know what to do about it. But he transferred, and we kept up a close correspondence for a whole semester. But near Christmas break, we drifted apart. At last, i accepted that it wasn't meant to be, and i let go just in time to make the mistake of giving Casey a chance.
Looking back, i'm glad we never got together. He wouldn't have liked me drinking and swearing, and i wouldn't have liked him being a bad speller and a homophobe. We're great as friends, but for anything more than that, it would have been a disaster.