Imagine it, a Tuesday without dreadlocks, without all the black clothing, and without her glasses, for she was wearing contacts at the time.
Tuesday moved around a lot as a child, and before she moved to the east coast, she had lived in Hawaii for two years.
And now I would like you to think of a nicer Tuesday, one who didn’t keep to herself. One that was liked, not disliked, for the most part. A truly sociable girl.
…
We were both 13 when I had came to Hawaii, and he was my first friend. Simon, a boy I had always thought looked like an angel, with his light, almost white blonde hair and sparkling gray eyes. I don’t know how he did it, but even by living in Hawaii, he never had much of a tan. I knew the boy was gay, he had told me shortly after we became friends, but I didn’t care.
Right from the start, on our first walk down the beach, we had bonded. Just…talking, and being in each other’s company. Hearing. There was a moment that day where we stopped talking, sat down, and looked deeply into each other’s eyes, not saying a word. Just…exploring the other person through sight.
He always smelled of strawberries and coconut.
Later on, almost a year after, we finally learned about each other through another sense- touch. I remember being in his arms, dancing, twirling, embracing. A true friend was he, and I to him. I didn’t want to let him go, and nuzzled myself closer to him.
I realized that I loved him that night.
I longed to be with him in a deeper relationship then just as friends, best friends, true friends. /Only/ friends? Oh no. It wasn’t even much of a sexual feeling towards him; I cared about him deeply, and wanted those loving thoughts to come out. I wanted to taste his own thoughts.
But our days were coming to a close. My family announced we were moving to the east coast soon. I cried, long, and hard, into the arms of Simon. I couldn’t leave him.
On my last day, I resolved to finally get that taste. Just about to go into the plane, I stood up on my toes, and kissed him. He brought me closer, and whispered to me that he would miss me, so very much. I told him I loved him. He squeezed me, but said nothing else.
It took me ages to recover from my feelings towards him. I knew I had to give him up, and I would probably never speak to him again.
I never could fully stop loving him.
broken parasites Community Member 
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