To cap off a momentous week, I confessed to CG that I'd been "ever so slightly in love with him for the longest time." One part of that was an exaggeration, the other a gross understatement. But that is me, the mistress of qualification and ambiguity and reserve.

Why did I do that? More than anything, I was fed up with my inability to move on. I'd reached a point where, no matter how hard I tried, or how rational I was, my heart simply refused to accept it and kept clinging on to hope. And there's only one way to get rid of hope, and that's by tackling the bull by its horns. Also, I'm going home for a few weeks, and I thought this was as good a time as any to enable me to be home with a clean slate.

So I told him what I told him, and continued with a "just tell me it's never going to happen so I can move on once and for all." His response, as any rational human being could have predicted, was indeed that, except that it was a "probably never going to happen", to which I interrupted and said, "don't say 'probably', just say 'never'". And he did.

So, here I am, with my first heartbreak of 2010. I think my heart's been broken pretty much once a year since I graduated, so maybe that's my one shot for this year. It's also the first time in my 29 years of life that I've told someone I'm in love with them without knowing how they felt. It is not something I care to repeat any time soon, as you might imagine.

We are still friends, of course. I've never quite had a guy friend like him whom I feel I could pretty much drop such things on and know he wouldn't flee. At the same time, the ball's in my court as to whether I want to see him again. We have a good friendship, and it would be a shame if we lost that because of this... but how do I not fall again?

And I guess it's fortunate it's impossible to die of embarrassment. But, of course, if it were possible, I'd have perished a long time before early this morning.