Just A Little Off-kilter.
Hm, I don't really know where to start with this, but I feel like I need to get it off my chest. I am a sixteen-year-old girl, a sophomore in High School, and I am madly in love with a sixteen-year-old Junior girl I met just ten months ago. I met her thanks to some mutual friends of ours; the first time I saw her was the first full day of school, when I went to lunch.
At first, I really didn't like her; she was some stranger who was a grade above me and most of my friends, pushing her way into our group. She struck me as a bit shallow, and the kind of person who talks about others behind their backs out of spite. However, as time went on, I began to see just how WRONG I was. She's one of the sweetest girls I've ever met, and she's really compassionate. She's on the school's swim team as well as the track team, so she's really tough. Not muscle-bound, but lean and strong looking. She's also got a bad case of ADD, so she's on a rather high dose of Concerta. I can sympathize with that; I've got Panic Disorder as well as a Non-verbal Learning Disorder, and I've been on Prozac ever since sixth grade.
Now, she ended up figuring out that I had a crush on her pretty quickly. I mean, it's not like it's that tough of a thing to figure out when you've got somebody who always wants to sit next to you, to lean against you. The other people in our lunch-table-group already knew I was bisexual, so she was probably able to verify her suspicions easily. She told me that she was straight, and that she wasn't comfortable with me always wanting to be so close to her. I backed down as best I could, still making contact on occasion but not to the point where she was squirming to get away.
The real problems began when I found out that she had a crush on a Senior boy at our school, someone she had met at a church youth group she and a few of my other lunch-table friends went to every so often. One of my friends told me a bit about him; and from that very moment, I started to hate him. I learned more and more, usually by getting my friends to slip up and tell me. He was an 18-year-old nymphomaniac who got drunk with his buddies on the weekends and had had sex with a fifteen-year-old girl I had met in my freshman year. He apparently had about three girlfriends during the period of time when the girl I love (Let's call her "Emma", for the sake of clarity) was interested in him. I remember seeing them walk together to his car, so he could drive her home. I followed them, and stood still as I watched them get in. She caught me staring, just as they started to drive off. The next day was hell for me.
She confronted me about how I had followed her, calling me a stalker and a creep. I didn't deny any of it. I just stood there, feeling dead. I felt like she had betrayed me, scorning my love for the affection of some sex-crazed freak. I remember overhearing her talking to some of her other friends later that day, talking about how afraid she was. I went home and grabbed a piece of metal and a candle, which I used to burn the top of my right hand. I came in the next day with that hand covered in gauze, because the burns were leaking and they looked downright disgusting. When I saw her at lunch, she spotted my hand and looked downright appalled. We really didn't talk much for the rest of that week. As a matter of fact, we hardly talked again until her birthday.
On her birthday, the boy she liked was supposed to come and see her at lunch. I excused myself from the table that day, going to sit with some other friends at the table they had claimed. I was able to see my usual table from that spot, and so I spent most of lunch time watching, waiting for him to show up. He never did show up, and I could tell that Emma was crestfallen, still, I went up to her with a smile on my face, laughing about my "victory". That was probably the most terrible thing I've ever done to somebody in my life. I went home that night and hurt myself some more, choosing to etch a little fish on to my left ankle. I rubbed some Chili Powder into the wound so it would scar over and I would never forget.
I really don't remember how or why things started to get better between the two of us; she knows I still like her, and she's well aware of the fact that I'm a complete and utter creep (I found her home number, her address, and her cell phone number, and she found out about that)... but she still treats me as a friend. A good friend. She got over nymphomaniac-boy, admitting to the fact that he WAS, indeed, a complete and utter bastard; she has a different boy, now, and he's actually really nice. I see Emma in the mornings, before first hour, in her first-hour classroom; her boyfriend is there too, always holding her hand, always making me jealous. They always kiss each other good-bye when he has to leave to get to his first-hour; I always turn away, because I can't stand to watch. I get an extra few minutes with her after he leaves, though, since my first hour is closer, and she always gives me a hug before I leave. I know that she feels bad for me. I know that she feels guilty about not reciprocating my love. I know that I shouldn't take advantage of that, but I'm greedy, and I do. I do all I can to make her want to spend time with me.
I see her at lunch too, of course, but by far my favorite time of the day is right after school. She doesn't mind me being in the locker room while she's getting ready for track. She knows I won't look while she's getting changed. I could never do that to her. I could never betray her trust like that. She means the world to me.
We've actually talked about how I feel about her. She doesn't mind me getting my feelings about her off my chest. I've told her about how just being near her makes me feel safe, and how when I'm in her arms I feel like nothing could possibly hurt me. When she's hugging me, my entire world is in her arms. When she looks into my eyes, I just melt. Every time we touch, I just want to break down crying. I would die for her, any day. I would kill myself if I was sure that in the afterlife, I would be able to be her guardian angel. When she's upset, I do whatever I can to make her feel better. I would do anything for her... except for give her up.
For her Christmas present, I paid the $70 bill so she could get her varsity letter jacket dry-cleaned. I've given her roses and tulips and various different chocolates.
I know that we're just friends, and that we'll never be anything more than that. I know that she's straight, and that she's taken. That doesn't change anything, though. She's the most beautiful girl in my whole wide world, inside and out. She cares about me, despite all that I've put her through. And I guess that's why I don't want to let her go. I'm desperately grabbing at whatever I can get, because this is the closest thing to a real romantic relationship I've ever felt in my life.
Obsession isn't a healthy thing. It feels good to get all of this off my chest.