1999

***How to lose the female friend you're madly in love with in ten easy steps...***

1) Work up the nerve to ask her to prom. And, when she says yes, panic that it's only a "pity yes" and make sure she thinks you're only going as friends, lest she think you feel more and changes her mind about actually going with you. Because on prom night you're going to finally tell her how you feel and damned with the consequences. (Never mind the fact you could - um, I don't know - tell her right now!)

2) Spend the next few weeks in the lead-up to the big night in a feverish panic; constantly running lines in your head, struggling to work out the best way to tell her that you're in love with her. Hopefully without completely freaking her out. And praying that the vibes you've been getting from her haven't been misguided and she feels the same.

3) At prom itself, while dancing with her, finally open your mouth to say the words, tell her how you feel, ask her out . . . Only to have Christine, the girl who kissed you at the Valentine's Day party, ask to cut in. Watch the girl you love back away to let it happen. As if you mean nothing to her.

4) Have Christine - who is still the only girl you've kissed, by the way - tell you that the girl you love told her there's nothing between you and her and you're just friends.

5) Abandon Christine on the dancefloor (not your finest hour) to go and find the girl you love. Only to hear her actually telling your worst enemy (Martin) that she's not interested in you like that. Game over.

6) Return to the dancefloor to apologise to Christine. When Christine goes in for the kiss again, you don't stop her. In fact, this time you respond enthusiastically. Albeit temporarily. Before the epiphany hits you: it doesn't matter if the girl you're in love with doesn't feel the same about you. You still need her in your life. Even if it's just as a friend.

7) Realise she's already left the prom and rush home to find find her on her doorstep.

8) Suspect from the awkward conversation that ensues that she's not only not interested in you, but she's also done with your friendship. You think about explaining the kiss but . . . What's the point? You literally heard it from her own mouth that she didn't like you that way. Whatever her problem is, it doesn't seem to be that.

9) Lie awake all night, unable to sleep until you watch her leave for her grandparents' house. Having a sinking feeling, soon to be proved correct, that you're never going to see her again . . . And needing to have one last glimpse of her.

10) Duck out of sight as she swings around suddenly to glance up at your bedroom window. Your heart pounding, listening to the crunch of gravel as the car pulls away and she leaves your life for good.

(Bonus 11th step that can be added to any or all steps above. Over-think everything.)

I suppose my biggest mistake was falling for Iona in the first place. And then daring to believe she might actually be starting to feel the same way about me.

But the heart wants what it wants and while mine wanted her, her heart clearly felt differently. And I certainly couldn't blame her for that.

For weeks after prom though, I heard her words replay in my head, as if on a loop, taunting me.

"It's not like I'm in to Ryan anyway, we're just friends."

Experiencing that feeling of my hopes being crushed, a cold vice tightening around my heart, over and over.

Even worse than the rejection though, was the realisation that I'd lost her completely. That the girl I'd pretty much spent time with on a daily basis for close to a year, that I'd shared so much with, had just vanished out of my life with barely even a goodbye.

It was a break-up without the closure, for a relationship that had never existed.

When Iona's family returned from the Cairngorms without her, I'd prayed that it wasn't anything to do with me. But when I plucked up the courage to ask her mum for her grandparents' phone number, and Iona never called me back, I started to suspect it might be somehow related to me.

I couldn't get my head around it though. She was the one who hadn't been interested, so why had she ghosted me?

My head was absolutely wrecked. Eventually though I was just going to have to accept it had happened, and move on.

I have to admit, then, that my life went off-the-rails for a while then. Getting drunk often with my friends helped, took the edge off. They even let me vent about Iona . . . For a few weeks anyway, before Danny eventually snapped and told me to "get the fuck over it already". I couldn't even blame him. I was sick of myself by that point.

I just felt so lost.

My first year of student life was somewhat of a blur, but a welcome distraction. I fully embraced being away from home, lost my virginity, got shit-faced at punch parties, puked copiously afterwards, missed half my lectures yet somehow still aced my exams. As the years passed I got a bit wiser, a little more clear-headed, and actually started to take uni more seriously. I had a few girlfriends over that time, but it was all pretty casual. It was all I could handle.

On one occasion a few years later, on a night out back home, I actually ran into Christine of all people. "Hey, remember me?" She asked, wiggling her fingers at me in a coy wave. "Oh, don't worry," she added, before I could even respond. "I've no intention of jumping on you again; I finally learned my lesson after prom."

"Sorry," I winced, not really wanting to revisit that night. I'd tried not to think about it for so long.

"It's okay," Christine nodded, taking a generous sip of her French Martini and shrugging. "I was a bit upset at the time, but afterwards I put the pieces together and realised you were clearly into Iona. You went running after her like a puppy after we . . . Y'know." She smiled, squeezing my arm briefly before she walked back to her group of friends. "I hope it worked out for you in the end, Ryan" she added over her shoulder.

Ha.

At least she'd finally stopped full-naming me.

I returned to my mum's later and found myself in my old room, staring out the window at the house across the street. It had been three and a half years since prom by that point, and I'd never saw Iona again, even in passing. We must have been like ships that passed in the night, never quite docking at the same time. I couldn't help but feel HMS Iona probably planned her timetable that way.

Social media wasn't commonplace at that point, so I had no way of looking her up, checking in on her life. Maybe it really was a simpler time; it's easier to forget if you have no way to track a person.

But I never really forgot. Sure, I could go a few days without thinking about her, on a good week. But, even years later, little thoughts would pop randomly into my head, wondering what she was doing at a certain moment, pondering what her opinion would be on a certain subject. For example, while watching the finale of "Friends" in 2004: What would Iona think about Rachel getting off the plane?

She'd probably disapprove, I found myself thinking bitterly. She's an expert in running away, after all.

It probably helped when I got a marketing job down south a few years after graduation; distance helped soften the memories, make them fainter and less painful. Finally my heart felt like it was starting to heal after all that time.

The timing worked out perfectly in the end. Because I met Kelly right at the point where I was properly ready to move on.

And ultimately I ended up married to her.

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