I hadn’t seen my unlucky buddy since his birthday (that’s right, he’s as old as Jesus). That was over five weeks ago.

So we decided that enough was enough and it was time to spend some qwalidee time together. Except we ended up going out with a bunch of my friends in the East end instead. But that was okay. We still managed to catch up with each other and he got to meet some new people to boot. And at the end of the night when we realised that it would be too much of a chore for me to get home from where we were it was decided that I would kip on his ever-so-comfortable futon. Nothing wrong with that is there?

Now before you all go jumping to the wrong conclusions (just like my friends who were out with us), Unlucky and I are very good friends. Honest.

Not long ago, a wise friend told Unlucky that now that he’s back in the dating game, he mustn’t let it slip into ‘just friends’ with potential suitors who come into his life. Because let’s face it, once you’ve crossed that line, there’s no going back… is there? And there is great merit in what Wise friend said, because there’s the old When-Harry-met-Sally syndrome isn’t there? Bystanders wondering ‘will they, won’t they?’ Friends thinking ‘something must happen, they get on so well after all’.

I mean really, can men and women ever really be just friends?

I like to think they can.

In fact, I was accused by Fairy-tale Bride last night of having found a new best friend to take her place. And I won’t deny that UM and I like being friends. We have a laugh, we act as counsel and confidante, partner in crime, support centre and well, I like that. A lot. And I think that for once, it’s okay that we crossed the friends line.

So I woke up in his sitting room this morning.
He made me a cuppa while I remained snuggled under my duvet on the futon. We bounced around ideas on when and where to get some food. Talked about music and what not. There was no awkwardness, just two friends having a chat and a cuppa in the comfort of each other’s company. Nowt wrong with that at all.

“It’s a big socks day today” my unlucky friend declared. I knew exactly what he meant.

And as I sit here in my chunkiest, woolliest, biggest socks, typing this and looking out of the window with the promise of Autumn nipping at my nose, I thank whoever’s out there for good friends and big socks.

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