I’ve been friends with someone for about 10 years now, and while this might be a bit long, I’ll try to keep it brief.

When I first met Eliza, I had just moved to a new area and started a new job. She was going through a rough divorce at the time, but we instantly clicked. Eliza’s the type of person who’s open, wears her heart on her sleeve, and is incredibly beautiful, which made our connection even more unique.

As we got closer, there were moments that felt a bit strange, like when she’d lean in really close to tell me something private, sometimes so close that her chest would brush against me. It made me uncomfortable—mostly because we were at work—but I also kinda liked it. I’m on the autism spectrum and struggle with reading people, so I was never sure if she was being friendly or flirting. She often vented about how exhausting it was getting hit on by men, which made me hesitant to ever make a move or risk ruining our friendship.

Over time, I learned more about her life. She had a son in her early 20s with a guy who wasn’t great, and later married a military man who cheated on her and dragged out the divorce to make things worse. Her son’s father is a deadbeat, and I couldn’t help but sympathize because my own dad wasn’t around much either, leaving my mom to work nonstop to make ends meet. I felt for her and her son because I went through a lot of the same stuff growing up.

Now, we’re still good friends, but I think I’m in the “friend zone.” I love spending time with her and her son—sometimes I get butterflies when we’re together. I enjoy buying gifts for her kid to encourage his hobbies, and I cherish the time I get to spend with them. But it feels like the timing was never right for us, and I’m starting to accept that this is all it’ll ever be.