What's the farthest you've gone to impress a crush?

Haha, thanks :)

So...ten years ago I was a junior in high school, and this girl and I were appointed as the editors of the school literary journal. I'm female also, and had always dated guys (I am married to a man, and we have a baby now). But after spending some time with this girl, something crazy happened--I fell absolutely head over heels for her. I'm talking down the rabbit hole, spiraling madly out of control. I didn't even know those sorts of feelings were possible. She was brilliant in mathematics, a ballet dancer, absolutely beautiful, a bit of a loner, and the most philosophical person I'd ever met. Talking to her was like reconnecting with a part of my soul that I hadn't realized was missing.

Anyway, she asked me to the Decemberists concert (as a friend), and that was the first time we hung out. I don't even know if I was aware of the full extent of my feelings yet; all I knew was that she was hands down the most enchanting person I'd ever met. After that evening, we became inseparable friends. We craved each other's company. We could never get our fill of the other.

After a few months of this furious intensity, my feelings for her had grown so strong that I finally had to tell her about them. When I did, the most ridiculous thing happened: She said she felt the same way. Now, both of us had only dated guys, and we didn't really know how to classify our sexuality, so to say we were lost in navigating our changed relationship would be an understatement. We were so tentative and uncertain about the physical aspect of our relationship that we only ever held hands and cuddled. But still, the strangeness remained: We were two "straight" girls who had feelings for each other and were best friends, so it's not like we could hide from it.

But suddenly, things started to sour between us. She became callous, insulting everything about me. She began trying to control me. She knew that my feelings for her were stronger than hers for me, and she used this knowledge to her advantage. Hungry for her, longing for her, I let myself be pulled along, subjecting myself to each of her whims. The emotional abuse was enormous. Nothing about me was good enough; I was crass and uncultured, according to her. She would pull away, and I would beg for reassurance, and some pathological need for validation would draw her back to me, causing her to assure me that she still cared for me and wanted to continue whatever the hell it was we had going.

Everything ended one April night, when things between us were already pretty terrible. I stayed over her house. Our plan was to get drunk on her parents' liquor, drunk enough to bring us closer. I have no idea what I thought was going to happen; all I remember is wanting to finally make out with her. So I, a completely inexperienced drinker at the time, threw back about seven or eight shots of Jack Daniels (I have no idea how much she drank, but I know it wasn't nearly as much as I did). Then I sat next to her on the couch, buried my face against her hair and neck, and promptly blacked out. I remember nothing more of the night. When I woke up, I was wearing only a hoodie and my underwear. She wouldn't tell me what happened; she was already awake when I woke up, and she simply said, with no inflection in her voice, "You might want to put on your pants."

After that incident, she decided she wanted to date a guy from her robotics team, and informed me of this nonchalantly. I said, "I guess this means that what we had is over?" And she just replied monotonously, "Yeah, I guess so." Later that week, her ex-boyfriend, who lived an hour away, messaged me to let me know that they had been dating the entire time that she and I were "together," and that she had broken up with him as well for the guy from her robotics team.

I had abandoned all my friends for this girl and changed so much of myself to suit her preferences. I had assimilated a great deal of who she was into me, both the deep things and surface things, that she seemed to be inextricably linked to me. Of course, I was still wildly in love with her, and spent the next several years heartbroken. With time, it has improved, and I found love with my now-husband, but even now there is still so much of her in me that I doubt I will ever excavate it all. And maybe I shouldn't try to. Those are pieces of a person I once loved, who was extremely influential to me. So I accept those things as part of me still.

Anyway. That's my story. I haven't told anyone that story in years. Sorry for the length, couldn't sleep. Thanks for listening my friend.

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