It was the 23rd day in May. I’d been putting it off for what felt like an eternity. But I knew it had to happen some time soon. I didn’t know how you’d take it. I didn’t know if you’d understand. The worry of being rejected was overwhelming. I was never good at talking. What if you end up hating me? I’ve heard of parents disowning their children, and friendships being destroyed. I was scared of the life I could lose. All of these reasons not to tell you were making my head spin. We finally got a moment alone together and I knew this was it. My eyes were closed tight. I inhaled until my lungs were full and ready to burst. I clenched my fists and could feel sweat in my palms. I was embarrassed because I knew you could feel me shaking. Fear consumed me as I fumbled to find the right words. So many thoughts running through my young mind. I didn’t know where to start. But I didn’t even get the chance to begin to explain. You interrupted me. You interrupted in the most perfect way I could have ever imagined. You kissed me. And that action, of your lips touching mine, in a desperate, naive, passionate embrace, described our feelings perfectly. Coming out to you was the hardest thing I ever had to do. But after that, nothing else mattered. I loved you, and you felt it too. We were the only people in the world.
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