The first time I thought I was in love I was in 8th grade and had just moved to Poway.

That seems unnecessary but I thought it was mentionable.

Like straight people announcing themselves to gay peers it’s kinda questionable.

A friend was moving away and I thought we were pretty close.

Same classes, same hobbies, same interests.

But the difference was… she wasn’t interested in me.

At least, not romantically,

But understandably

If you’d ever gone back in time and took a gander at me.

I was that stupid chubby kid who always wondered when Power Ranger’s on. Wearing jackets in the summer with Converse I always Sharpie’d on.

But I thought this was real, that this was love, it was surreal.

So I took the chance. I told her on Facebook all like, “Imagine perhaps…”

She said no and I was fine with it all. But she stopped talking to me and it made me feel 1 foot tall. Was it something I said, did I do something wrong? Then the next message said, “You’re a creep. So long.”

So here I am 4 years later and you expect THIS… this teenager with the heart of a child, riddled with hormones and that kind of moment with romance to think I’ve got yet another chance?

With this beautiful woman I haven’t known for a year while I have no shred of plans? You’re CRAZY. I’m crazy. Fuck that, I’m fucking insane.

It’s this kind of situation that stuck to me better than my education and spreading in my mind like an epidemic of nations.

And there the truth lies.

It shouldn’t be a surprise that I am so scared I’ll fuck this up and watch relationships crumble before my eyes.

I’m in love or delirious, to think that even with this experience I could handle relationships this fucking serious.

Me - that kid from the bay who’s addicted to games, no ‘presidents’ to name, with Sloth to blame.

But I’ll try. I’ll try to work out these emotions, to go through the motions and brace for the commotion.

Because I can tell deep within these feelings aren’t fake.

So please let me think if there’s a confession I should make.