Okay… I’m scared the person who this post is about will find out about this, but… Whatever. I can deal with it.

So you know that post where I said I would talk about a crush I had on a girl? Well. Here we go.

I’ve been attracted to three girls to a large degree before. Two I absolutely refuse to talk about for various reasons – yeah… Let’s not go into that.

The third was very recent.

Right, so you know how I can’t see? I went on a revision course at a blind school (won’t say where). And yes, if you happen to find this and went on that, just… Yeah. I…

So the revision course. I was terrified, because I don’t get on with blind people very well most of the time because I don’t fit in.

This girl. Let’s call her Hazel, because she was special to me and people who mean something to me get naturey names.

Hazel is lovely. She’s INCREDIBLY intelligent and I admire her. She’s my age, is honestly so adorable, she composes, she’s amazing, and we can talk for ages.

I wasn’t attracted to her to begin with, I don’t think. But I wanted to talk to her. We walked to lessons together a LOT, sat by each other a lot. She was about the only person I could comfortably carry on a conversation with – MORE than comfortably!

It was on the second day. I remember that. We’d been talking, the previous day, and she’t said that her parents weren’t really accepting of people from the LGBTQ community. And that they weren’t very accepting in general.

I wanted to tell her then. Because I didn’t know her before, but I thought – is she a homophobe? Or whatever you call someone who’s against bisexuality. Biphobe? Nah…

The next day, we had talked even more. We were… Close.

And I told her.

“Um, Hazel… You know how you said your parents weren’t very accepting of people who weren’t straight? Are you… Are you against it too?”

“No! No, of COURSE not!”

“Well yeah um I’m bi…”

“Oh okay! Yeah… I think I might be too.”

“Wha… Really?”

I was the first person, besides one of her friends, who she’d told. In fact, I don’t even think she’d told her properly. She said she was more gay than bi.

And then something happened in my mind.

I don’t know if it was just because we both knew we liked girls. I honestly hope it wasn’t, because Hazel is so great and so nice that I probably would have fancied her anyway, but I must have suppressed it or not even realised it was an option.

And then for the rest of the time, it was torture.

It gets fuzzy. When things happened, in what order, that kind of thing. But I remember what they were, and how they made me feel.

I had to stop myself from getting too close.

She was so innocent, I suppose. Never swore, which was so different to me – well, you KNOW me and my swearing tendencies!

I remember, distinctly, when we discussed music. She asked me to play for her, and to sing. And so after a few protests from me, I did. I came back to the seats after I’d finished the song – I play piano and sing – and she it was amazing, and beautiful. And that she wasn’t as good.

Which is STUPID because she is. I heard her play, once, when she was in her room. I came in and just stood there, because it was so beautiful.

We sat so close all the time. Maybe that was just me being a creep, but I just wanted… Something.

We went on the coach to go bowling on the last day. I sat next to her, and we talked so much, and we touched hands so much too, because she said my hands were perfect for piano playing and that hers were just horrible. So, of course I had to prove her wrong. I sound like such a weirdo, but… I don’t even care.

See? Every second of the day. In lessons, when she was around, when she WASN’T.

She taught me how to play chess, too. I lost, obviously, but it was just such an amazing moment.

When we left to go home, she and I hugged for so long. There was just so much pent up emotion, and I remember all the little moments. The ways we spoke and the things we said, and every pause between sentences where we just sat in comfortable silence.

I don’t think she felt the same way, but it just proves to me that I CAN like both boys and girls.

I miss her. I miss her a LOT. We said things to each other, and complimented each other, and now I miss her.

I wasn’t in love with her. I just liked her, a lot.

Should I tell her?

If I ever meet her again, I think those feelings will come back. But I just don’t know.

Oh, thank god I wrote that! I needed to get it off my chest.