In an effort to revitalize our relationship we went on vacation together, a road trip to the Maritime Provinces. We stayed at a heritage hotel on Prince Edward Island, ate more lobster than we should have, and even though we enjoyed ourselves we were boring each other to death. I wanted to play tennis, he wanted to listen to Dylan and rock out on the beach.

While there, we ran into a friend of mine from work, who was on vacation with a new love. The four of us had dinner together, and as they gazed adoringly into each other’s eyes we sat embarrassed and vainly tried to find something to talk about. I realized that we had mistaken nostalgia and familiarity for romance, and without that spark, all we were was friends.

When we got home we broke his mother’s heart. We sadly divided up our belongings, and decided to “take a break”. We both knew it was permanent, but liked each other enough to want to leave the door open.

We are still good friends to this day, he married someone else and moved to California. I married and stayed in Ottawa. We still love each other as friends, and sometimes we say – “What if?”, but that boat had sailed a while ago, a lovely interlude, and one that helped me adjust to a new life, but not the basis for a life-long commitment. Sometimes friendship is just that, and nothing more.