-...: My Friend-s Girlfriend Becomes My Girlfriend.

"I've been seeing her."

For six months, I was a ghost in my own friendship. I’d go to their apartment for dinner. Mark would grill burgers and talk about his new podcast idea (it was about the history of the paperclip). Sasha would watch him, her smile a patient, tired thing. She’d catch my eye across the table, and we’d share a silent, unspoken language: Can you believe this guy? But beneath that was another, more dangerous whisper: Why isn’t it you? My friend-s Girlfriend Becomes My Girlfriend. -...

My friend's girlfriend became my girlfriend. But only because she was never really his to begin with. She was just waiting for the right match to be lit. "I've been seeing her

The guilt came later, in the cold shower of the next morning. Mark was my friend. There was a code. You don't pick up the pieces your friend threw away. But I called him anyway. No texts, no games. I drove to his new apartment, which smelled of protein powder and unfulfilled ambition. Sasha would watch him, her smile a patient, tired thing

I didn't run to her. I gave it a month. I told myself it was respect. But really, it was cowardice. Then I saw her post on Instagram: a picture of a half-finished phoenix tattoo on a blank canvas, the caption: "Some things have to burn before they can fly."