tfw you’re 17 and you don’t know anything but you’re starting to think maybe you like girls, maybe you want to KISS girls, and then maybe you start becoming friends with the gorgeous confident bisexual feminist girl in your class, maybe you ride past her house on your skateboard sometimes just to feel your heart stop in your chest, and you’re so nervous but you ask her to the last school dance of the year and she says YES but the night comes and you start thinking about everyone looking at you, seeing you with another girl, knowing this terrifying precious thing about you and judging you for it, even hating you for it, and you can’t stand it, you’re so scared and so ashamed of yourself for being scared you can’t even tell your date, and finally you manage to talk yourself out of your panic spiral and you get yourself to the dance just before it ends, and your date’s favorite song is playing and you think maybe you’re just in time, but then you catch sight of her across the gym and she’s dancing with a guy. You’re heartbroken and angry at yourself for being heartbroken and jealous and angry at yourself for being jealous, and maybe she’s better off with him, maybe he can make her happy, at least happier than you could, maybe she doesn’t even care that you didn’t show up, but it still hurts, so when your friend pulls up and offers you a way out, says get in the car, let’s drive, takes you home and takes you to bed and kisses you like a secret, you take it, you spend the summer with her because it’s better than being alone even while you’re dreaming of the girl you left behind. Maybe when summer ends and school starts again you’re still scared, you don’t know how to face her, and then you find out she switched classes and suddenly you’re full of hope and fear and regret, because if she doesn’t want to see you does that mean you hurt her? does that mean she cares about you? that she could feel the same way? and maybe you dream about showing up on her doorstep, apologizing, pouring your heart out, telling her how much you’ve missed her, how sorry you are for hurting her so badly, for leaving her all alone and never even telling her why. You wonder if she’d kiss you, if you asked, beautiful as she’s even been, driving her car in her old cardigan.