I was always someone to experience people coming and going. I did so myself by moving across multiple states just as I was discovering my true self. Not only that, but I was always lonely growing up. I had two good friends, and the rest were just friends in passing. Granted, I’m thankful for those who had stuck by my side.
When I came to terms with my sexuality, I then connected the dots as to why I had friends that consisted of girls and enjoyed their company. These friendships weren’t opportunities to force a potential romantic relationship, but it made more sense to me as to why I enjoyed the female presence over anything else.
I had talked to a girl for a few days into my first move, halfway through September 2017. I was introduced to her through mutual friends, and we hit it off…through Snapchat. Truth is, I was a new student that had never seen her before, and she knew exactly who I was. We began talking about everything: why I moved, our childhood, what coming out was like for her (I still shut myself in the closet). It was an interaction I will never forget, nor let go of.
A week passed, and she ghosted me. I was devastated because all that I longed for was the feeling of being wanted by someone who I wanted as well. Turns out that she was talking to another girl while we were talking. I had never had that happen before, and I felt so small and insignificant. We went our diverging paths for a few months and ended up rekindling our relationship in December 2017. A mere kiss was all it took.
Time moved on, and we moved apart. Somewhere along the way, we ended up talking again and understood that we were better off as friends. After all, you don’t have to date someone you’re friends with that is LGBTQIA+. We talked more than ever with the shared agreement of only being friends. It was exactly what I was looking for without understanding just what was missing in my heart.
We graduated from high school together, started college together, and ended up growing further apart. Right before I endured my final move, my mental health was at an absolute rock bottom, and I had isolated myself while she was thriving. It was heartbreaking to see her be happier with others. Laughs once shared between us, no longer lingering in parked cars, over dinner, or even in passing in the hallways. I twisted it and felt like I was a bad friend for being gone, but I was only able to play the bench for the sport of socialite. I was trapped within the confines of my own mind and isolation.
I reached out after I moved again, and we started talking for a few weeks non-stop. Almost as if nothing had changed and the only contingency was that I lived in a new time zone. The summer came and went, and we both started school. I had high hopes we would stay together in the end, but to my demise and your safe assumption, we grew apart.
I think about it often that our relationship could have just been destined solely for high school, and nothing more after that. Even after everything, I miss her every day and I hesitate more than ever to reach back out.