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You met her in elementary school. You think about her constantly, want to be near her, hug her, hold her hand. This is how it is to love a friend.
Isn’t it?
The truth is, you are a homosexual, a faggot in love with another girl. The real you is trying to assert itself so desperately, but you simply don’t have the emotional literacy to understand. Queerness was in your pulp, but not yet in your story. Remove the pulp, you think, make yourself easier to swallow.
In the end, you drive her away with your overbearing, uncontrolled affection. She still hates you for it to this day.
See, being a faggot is hard. Kids always know when there’s an outlier in their mix. They single you out, make you feel incomplete and inferior. When there’s another poor guy having a worse time than you, an alliance would only paint another bold red target on your back. Your only option is to be on the side of your tormentors. Maybe then they won’t see you as you are. Maybe then they won’t figure it out.
You’re afraid of becoming a victim, so you mold yourself into someone that you are not.
How do you move on?