Sexual Relationships 
Sexual Health 
I've thought I was in love many times. There was the time in sixth grade when I had my first crush. Then there was the time in eighth grade when I wanted my friend to ask me out. And the time in senior year when I was convinced I'd marry a guy in my English class. But it wasn't until college that I discovered what falling in love really felt like.
He wasn't particularly what girls would consider to be "hot." He was skinny, soft-spoken, and had a crooked smile -- an adorable crooked smile. His eyes were a gorgeous shade of blue, and his laugh was overwhelmingly cute. Aside from looks, he was sweet, shy, and polite. He held the door for me and walked me home one night after hearing about a nearby rape. He always complained that guys didn't know how to properly treat girls, and said he hoped all his female friends found a guy that deserved them.
I spent many late nights at his apartment, as he spent many late nights at mine. We'd talk about homesickness, watch movies, and eat junk food. He always made sure I was comfortable, and I looked out for him like a sister looks out for her little brother. Notice I said "sister" and "brother." We weren't dating. We'd never dated. We were just good friends.
At one point, I thought there was something more going on between us. In fact, I'm pretty sure there was. He'd sneak smiles at me, and sometimes would blush when I asked him something. He teased me, and playfully copied things I said. I did all these things in return. And one day, when we were driving with the windows down, I realized that I felt something more than friendship towards him. It wasn't like a typical infatuation, either. I automatically felt like life was wonderful whenever he was around. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach whenever I saw him, and I suddenly became conscious of everything I did around him -- everything from what I said to what I wore to how I ate. I began living for the days when I'd see him.
And then we fought. He showed his ugly side, the side with all his flaws. This is when I really knew it was real. Normally, I'd call crushes jerks and move on when they acted less than the perfect person I believed they were. But this time, his flaws made me love him even more. He apologized, and so did I. Then, he hugged me. He'd never hugged me before; we were both too shy. Though at that moment, he was wrapping me in his arms, drawing me close to his chest. For a few seconds, everything felt perfect.
We were apart for winter break. And let me tell you, that break was the hardest month of my life...so far, anyway. Usually, I'd forget about crushes and move on when I realized I wasn't gonna see them for a while. At this point, however, I couldn't get him off my mind. I kept thinking about his smile, his blue eyes, and the way his arms felt as they held me.
When we returned to school, he greeted me with a hug, then asked what my plans were for dinner. I thought that maybe he was asking me out. But then my friend overheard and invited herself along. Either way, it wouldn't have mattered, because I would soon find out that he was in a long distance relationship...with a guy.
My heart broke. I wasn't against gays. I was just jealous of the fact that someone else got to enjoy him. I was hurt that he hadn't trusted me enough to tell me he was gay. And I was mad that he'd flirted with me. But then I started to realize that he'd been confused. Perhaps he really had thought he'd liked me. Perhaps I would've been the girl he'd choose if he were straight. I slowly came to accept the fact that we'd never be together. I cried. I felt like a piece of me was gone.
And then he decided to move a thousand miles away to be close to his boyfriend. I cried again. But yet, I wanted him to be happy. I realized that love means letting go, even if letting go is hard. Love is selfless. And so I hid my feelings and forced a smile whenever he mentioned moving.
When the day came for him to actually leave, I sobbed. I pulled myself together by the time he came to say goodbye. As I opened the door, he drew me into a long, tight embrace -- one unlike any other hug we'd shared before. My head was buried in his chest, and his arms were nearly lifting me off the ground. His jeans rubbed against mine, and we were almost stepping on each other's toes. My nose took in the familiar scent of his cologne. I was too choked up to speak. He didn't say anything, either.
We finally pulled apart and had one last conversation. I don't really remember what it was. All I know is that we both teared up. When the time came for him to go, a tear slipped down my cheek, and I held out my arms.
He gave a weak smile and said, "Yeah, give me another hug."
I nestled against his shoulder, my tears bleeding into his shirt. "I'll miss you," I managed to say.
It might have been my imagination, but I swore he pulled me closer. I never wanted to let go. I never wanted that moment to end.
But eventually, it had to. I looked at him with moist eyes as he reached for the doorknob.
"I'll see you again," he said. "I promise."
I managed a smile and a small nod. "See you sometime," I responded. Taking a deep breath, I watched him walk through the doorway. Then, I allowed my tears to freely flow. I felt broken, hopeless, like life no longer had a purpose. It scared me that one person had the power to make me feel that way. This had never happened before. And as I cried myself to sleep, the words I'd wanted to say to him played through my head:
I love you.
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What Girls & Guys Said
1 1I felt saddened by what happened to you but take heart, something better is ahead of you right now.
Well-written 😊
hahahahaha I can't stop laughing! BOOM! "Im gay!" :D :D