The perfect scenario.

She was his go-to girl. He could always talk to her about his problems. When he liked a girl, or didn't know what to do; when he was lost at the bottomless hole of homework, or his family was having problems, she would listen very patiently and would help him sort it out.

She always had the best advice on what to do and how to handle it. He routinely updated her on the status of his relationships, and what was going on in his life. When something went wrong, or relationships went awry, she was the first person to hear then, too. She carried him through those situations every time, and quite willingly. She genuinely cared about him.

Whenever he worried about her getting sick of hearing that sort all the time, she'd laugh it off. That's what friends are for, right? she'd say. She wasn't just his go-to girl, though. She helped a lot of her guy friends in the same way. Some girls, too, to be sure, but it's more striking to the guys to have a girl that they can talk to about this. She enjoyed being useful to her friends, as they found someone special. She just sometimes wished someone would find her.

..

Here he was, again, telling her all his woes. He described his problem. There's this girl, he seemed to be saying, and I really think it's love this time. She listened once again as he described this girl with whom he held such fascination. The girl he was describing seemed just perfect for him, and it was obvious he cared more for this one than he had for other girls. It was someone she didn't know, someone with whom he had already long been friends. A relationship of the nature that he wanted was a subject that never came up between them, and he wanted to know how to get that to happen.

Happy for him, she prescribed that he go to the girl, right now, whilst he was still confident, whilst he was in a moment of knowing exactly what he wanted to say and how to say it. He should go and ask her right now. He thanked her with a hug and departed.

She shut the door, and slid her back down it till she was sitting on the floor. She held her head in her hands, crying. Would none of them ever see her? Abruptly, she heard a rapping on the door. She stood up as she rubbed at her eyes and opened the door a crack.

Standing there was the guy, one and the same. He shifted awkwardly, briefly, before saying sheepishly, I'd like to ask you a question.

And then she was in his arms, finally found.