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She had short red curly hair, longer on the top and short on the sides, and chunky brown glasses. She had pale skin and freckles. I still have a picture of her somewhere that I took in the art room where we had class together. This was back in the late 80’s. I don’t remember much about her, other then her smile and her confidence. I remember how she made me feel.

Terrified.

If she knew I had a crush on her, would she think I was a monster and never talk to me again? Would she tell everyone else? Would she warn them? If she knew I had a crush on her would word reach my school that I was some sort of pervert? Would my friends be afraid to be around me? What would happen to me?

What are the chances she felt the way I felt, in the same way that I did? Would we catch quick kisses when nobody was looking? Would we fall in love? Would we one day run away together? What are the chances of that?

She must never know.

She’s a friend. We like each other. Why would I mess that up? After camp is over, we’ll probably never see each other again. What was I thinking?

Silly me.

We never even kept in touch.


He had long red hair and a beard. Wait, did he back when we met? I’m not even sure! It was the early 90’s. Our mutual friends on the high school speech circuit got us together due to our excessive Dr. Who fandom. They knew that we had to meet each other. It was destiny! He was cute in a “Young Sherlock Holmes” sort of way. I was smitten.

About two weeks later, at another speech meet, we were running around the halls waiting for the results to come in. We found an out-of-the-way corner to sit down and rest after a long day. He started to put his head down and I moved in the way. He looked at me, a bit surprised but soon realized the nature of the situation. He smiled and put his head on my lap. Then he looked at his watch and mentioned the time.

Later, back at my school, I waited for the speech coach to be out of the room. I quickly rummaged through the confidential judges records to find his full name. When I got home, I looked through the phone book, and found him! Lucky for me, he has a really unique last name! I gave him a call. He asked me how I got his number.

I told him I was clever.

“By the way, why did you look at your watch?” I asked him.

“That’s when we started going out, and I wanted to remember it,” he said.


Yes, I’m fully aware that my relationship with my husband is privileged and celebrated by society more so than any relationship I may have with a woman or anyone else who isn’t a man.

No, that doesn’t make me straight.

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