“He calls me. He checks on me. He acts interested,” she said.

“But he hasn’t asked me out. I don’t know where I stand.”

I didn’t even hesitate.

I told her calmly, confidently:

“If it’s not intentional, it’s confusion. If he really wants something serious, you won’t have to guess.”

She agreed. She even thanked me for being honest.

And I genuinely believed what I said.

A few weeks later, I found myself in a talking stage with someone.

We talked every day. Late-night calls. Inside jokes. Soft flirting. All the signs.

Then one day she asked me,

“So… what are we?”

I laughed it off.

“Why are you rushing?”

“Let’s just vibe.”

“Why do we need labels?”

Truth was, I liked her.

I liked the attention.

I liked the comfort.

But I didn’t want responsibility.

I didn’t want pressure.

I didn’t want to define anything.

And that’s when it hit me.

I had become the exact person I warned my friend about.

That experience taught me something uncomfortable:

Sometimes we know the right thing to do.

We just don’t do it when it costs us something.

And sometimes, the red flag we’re pointing at…

is the one we’re holding.