Welcome to Gaia! ::

There’s this girl.
No, not in the way you're thinking.

She's this girl who I met on the bus when I was only in second grade, and she was in fourth. We talked about imaginary friends, of all things, and somehow we clicked. She asked me if I would come to her house after I got home, and I said that I didn't know where she lived. She pointed to a grey house with two vans parked outside and said, "It's that one. Just come over if your mom says you can."

And so I went to her house. I don't remember what happened after that. I don't know what makes people best friends, to have a bond so close that it feels like you're one person. And that other half of you is the only person you care about seeing. I remember one day my mom not letting me go to your house, yelling at me, "Why don't you just live at Becca's house?" And at the time I couldn't think of a good reason why - I just left my mom standing in the doorway, even though I was just nine and I felt terrible about it. But at the time nothing was more important than being around the girl who made me happy when no one else could.

Writing about it makes me want to cry. I don't know. I don't usually cry about fickle things like this. I miss her so much, it makes my heart ache. Weird. I have never honestly said that.

I remember one day when we were little, and we had gone to the beach to find horseshoe crabs, and when we got left. . .This is too embarrassing to write. I can't believe I even thought it.

Thinking about this makes me cry, the way I felt that last night you stayed at my house, the way I cried when your mom came and told you how much I would miss you. Over the years it feels as though I've forgotten you, but then something brings your face back into my mind out of the blue in a painful way, and it feels as though someone's stuck a dagger through my stomach and is now twisting it roughly.

I remember almost everything we've done together, which is weird, because I never remember anything.

I remember going to the mall with Jason and Shyam; I remember the restaurant we ate at with your mom that day, and the discussion we had about music - every word of it; I remember going to your house the night before and watching The Fog and eating those brownies with a glass of milk; I remember staying up late and waking up early, and those nights that you would fall asleep before me and I would get online on your laptop while you slept; I remember the Sims game we started and how you're probably neglecting it now, despite the fun we shared with it; mostly, I remember the trips we went on to the Secondhand Bookstore and how we picked up everything of value from there - We found virtually everything that taught us our current mindset there.



What am I saying? This is idiotic. I feel so sentimental by typing it out. But it's all true, isn't it?

You were the girl I thought I loved, and still wonder about. Tell me, then, do you miss me, too?

((Not sure whether that's really considered GLBT Lit. . .I'm a bisexual FtM, and she's, well. . .straight. And taken. I don't know, this just seems especially hard to deal with at the moment. I thought I'd write it all down.))