Answered 22 months ago
When I was a little girl—about four or five years old—a family from Yugoslavia moved in to the house next door. They had a kid, about my age, called Andy, who fast became friends with both myself and my brother. I loved Andy. Andy was fun, he was fascinating, he was always welcoming, and he had all the cool toys.
Andy and I became inseparable. We had sleepovers, we played Voltron (I was always Princess Allura, and he was always Commander Keith), he had weird books in a language I couldn't read, he had a Commodore 64 (we had a PC at home), his parents were funny, and he always had the BEST birthday parties. When we went to their place for dinner, Andy's dad let us play with our food. I told Mum that when we grew up, Andy and I were going to get married and live happily ever after.
Being five was awesome. Being a teenager was much less so.
My first serious crush, the high school one, came with all the blinding emotional intensity of adolescence. His name was Michael, and by virtue of his academic achievements he was the "smart one" in our dorky social circle. We nicknamed him the "Walking Encyclopaedia" and demanded that he know everything. When I first met him, he was shy, and bullied for his academia and severe acne. Perhaps I was drawn to him by our shared shyness. Of course, he only ever saw me as a friend, and a loser at that, triggering "unrequited love" melodrama in my demented teenage mind. I cringe to even remember.
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3 days ago
Моей первой любовью, в возрасте 11-13 лет был один парень... Его зовут Дима... Дима Д***, его полную фамилию я не смогу сказать, потому что, он может прочитать мою историю. Так вот, в первый раз, когда я его увидела, он мне показался, каким - то... не таким, и я решила на него "забить"... Но когда я начала с ним ходить на одно занятие, уже четвертый год, он мне постепенно начинал нравиться, и вот поэтому, Я ЕГО ЛЮБЛЮ уже четвертый год...
9 days ago
2 weeks ago