Chapter 12

With burning, pink eyes, and a half smile, I shakily hold up a fork full of steaming hot spaghetti to my mouth. The smell of the meatballs grossed me out beyond anything else I've ever smelt. My eyes were itchy and uncomfortable, and I felt like running away. Like this was all a huge mistake.

"Careful, it's gonna be hot."

I shake my head, trying to pull myself out of the daze I was in. "Sorry, sorry."

"No need to be sorry. I just figured you wouldn't want to burn your mouth off," my aunt points out.

"Sorry, habit."

"And enough apologizing! I don't know what you were taught back at home, but you should never feel like you have to apologize for simply existing."

"Well, back at home, I was only apologizing to keep things civil. Being myself wasn't an option."

"True. But here, people are much more accepting," she says with a smile.

I tried eating, even after it cooled off, but food just didn't sound great at the moment. I drank half a glass of ice water, ate a couple of bites of bread, and finally stopped pretending. My head was pounding as hard as my heart, and the knots in my stomach began to consume me as I kept replaying the ugly scene.

***"What- what is this? Tara, you cut your hair!" My mom drops a duffel bag full of clothes and runs to me like I just broke an arm. "Did Lora do this to you?"

"What? No! I'm sick of you playing her out to be the villain in this situation!" I probably looked absolutely insane, with two pigtails in my hands and screaming from the deck, having a tantrum.

"Don't you have anything to tell her, Mihai? She's being ridiculous!" I knew exactly what I had to do. Prepare to never face them again. "Mom, you'll never understand. And I hate that you never even tried. At least dad tries to be heard, but you just smother all of us! Poor Stefan is in that car waiting for you two to head back home to that massive mansion you selfishly took because you wanted a picture-perfect life with two picture-perfect kids. I'll never be picture perfect. And if you can't accept that, then I'm not your kid."

After that, I can't recall much. But how dare she? How dare I? I destroyed her, and I know that much. She picked away at me until I was so sensitive that as soon as I stepped out of Aunt Laura's house, I was somebody different. Hurt and scared. But I terrified my own mother at that moment. Finally, she heard what I had wanted to say for years. I finally gave up, and while it gave me one of my best victories, it was also going to cause severe heartbreak. My dad, regardless of where he stands, had as little control in his actions as I did, growing up. I either broke the silence, or just broke mom.

***"I'm sorry. I can't."

"You can't what, sweetheart? It's okay if you're not hungry. Is spaghetti not your favorite?"

"No, I actually love spaghetti. And, thank you so much for everything. But it's all starting to feel real."

"What is, hon?"

"Just, me. My identity. The last my parents saw of me was a sobbing... thing, with their hair cut off, screaming at them until they could hardly breathe to get them to stop yelling. I felt insane."

"Thing? You're not just a thing, Lucian. You're a boy, still trying to figure things out. Growing up as a trans kid wasn't easy for me either. I got called every name in the book, until I started feeling like the monster everyone depicted us as. I could physically feel myself getting sick and twisting into knots on the inside."

"Does it ever go away?" I ask through my tears.

"Once you get over all of that trauma. I'll be honest with you. Some will stick with you, but after a while, you will be able to push it aside and remember that your identity isn't a mistake, a choice, or a sin."

"This feeling I'm having. I don't know how to explain it," I mutter, my words sounding empty. "I feel sick when I try to say the words. I feel like with every word, every breakdown, and every dramatic encounter I have, it starts to feel like it's chipping away at who I am, until I feel like a helpless, scared girl. And I know that I'm not a girl, and I always have known that. But what keeps me from slipping back into that dark place where -"

"Where you're in denial?" She pauses, turning to face me completely. "Where you or others try to poke holes in it because you feel like just knowing isn't enough anymore?"

"Exactly."

"I can't speak for every trans kid, but I've experienced this more than once. But with time, you'll see that you don't have to make sense to anyone but yourself without digging too deep. You just know that you are who you are, and you will not, and you can not let anybody bully into believing any difference. You can like the color pink, and princesses. You can wear makeup. You can wear a binder some days, but not other days. You may want to get surgery someday, or you may not. That doesn't make your feelings fake. That doesn't make you a fraud."

"I just don't think I can eat right now," I sigh. "I just feel like it's not worth it somedays. What if, in the end, nobody sees me as a guy? What if the end result isn't worth all I've fought against?"

Half of me wanted to just forget what I was saying. The other half believed it. Of course, I knew who I was. But what's keeping me from de-transitioning and using my birth name if nobody's going to see all the effort and shit I've been through? I don't want every second I spend in agony being depressed because I'm born this way if it's not going to make a difference. It just doesn't seem possible right now. Not with my mom, finally out of the picture. While she made all the wrong ones, she was the decision maker. I hated how much I depended on her. In return, it made my life miserable, but that was all I knew, so how do I continue?

It all started to seem real, though. Which isn't the same thing, but it's a start, I suppose. As soon as I stepped into my new room, the walls painted pastel blue. The bed was twice the size of my old one. The sheets were comfortable and silky. The comforter that Lora bought to go with it was like one you'd find at a fancy hotel. Only this bed had much better pillows. I throw on my blankets and stuffed animals, then flop back onto it. I hug Jesse's teddy bear close. The first person I told. Just months ago, nobody knew but me. Now I'm across the state, living with my aunt because my parents are confused, concerned, and about to be divorced. Even when it was just during the summer, Jesse was who kept me going. He was honest. Not just a friend like Noa. Literally so much more. Noa supports me, but she would say anything just to make me happy. I can always rely on Jesse to be honest and help me through things realistically. I wish he were here.

I also miss Sebastian, greatly. I wonder if we will ever speak again. Though he was on the back burner, what with all my other concerns, the pot of water was still overflowing and boiling over every second I didn't come back to check on it.I feel so clueless. Maybe it's for the best. Am I really ready for a relationship in the state I'm in? Probably not. Definitely not. I feel blind. And deserted. Abandoned. So I have to keep reminding myself that I wanted this. I wanted to leave, even though it was so hard. I don't live for the challenge. I live for what's beyond it, and I think sometimes that fact just doesn't click with me.

I spring up off my bed and begin organizing since there wasn't much cleaning I could do. I fold my blankets at the end of the bed and in the small storage closet shelves. I dug out all the little trinkets and souvenirs and small framed pictures that reminded me of my past and set them up neatly on a dainty wooden set of shelves next to my small television. Pictures of me and Noa, and my dad. Even one of Stefan. But not one of my mom. A picture of me and Gram Gram and Jesse, a bunch of snow globes I got from the zoo gift shop, and a small box with rings I've collected over the years from each and every birthday. I hang up my matching pendants safely and then take a step back to admire it all. I only wished I had something more to remember Sebastian by. But, at least I have this.

Inside one of the smaller boxes with more delicate things that didn't necessarily have to be wrapped up was a small canvas with a beautiful watercolor painting of a tiger. It looked so abstract but intricate. The background seemed to begin to wash away at the corners and flow with the black stripes of the bright orange and cream white tiger, with golden eyes like mine. The greatest going away gift I received. The only, really. Besides a pair of jeans and a T-shirt that Noa gave me. This was something else.

Sebastian was right. Tigers are always being hunted and targeted. Like people like me, in certain places, we don't feel safe. But what I adore about him is that he is always able to distract me from the fear. And he really knows how to make the most terrible situations the brightest and most fun times of my life.

***"Seb, open up! I'm sorry!" I knock repeatedly at his bedroom door. His mom had let me inside. After about a minute of knocking, he finally opens up. "What the h- what the hell?"

Sebastian takes a step back, allowing me to come inside his room. "Come in."

"No, what is this? You're never this... messy. What happened?"

His entire room looked completely destroyed, with clothes and papers askew on the floor and spills on the floor he hadn't cleaned up. Tons of pop cans and plates are stacked up by the window sill. "Just get in here," he sighs, obviously ashamed.

"Seb, are you alright?"

"Oh, yeah. You're leaving me, my stepdad just moved out, and I can't fucking clean because I can't think straight right now!"

"Hey, hey. Calm down, okay? Do you want me to help you clean up?"

He takes a long pause, not sure if he should accept help from me or not. "Please, do. I'm sorry, Tarah. I would never just ask this of you, but if you're offering-"

"Yes, of course. I've been feeling kind of the same. Cleaning helps me."

"Then, can we help each other out? One last time?" He reaches out his hand to shake mine.

"Let's get to work," I say, clapping my hands together. I immediately found his trash can and tossed in a few crumpled papers that were surrounding it.

"I'm so sorry we fought last time. I was hoping you'd come back," he admits.

"I'm leaving tomorrow, Seb. I couldn't just not say goodbye."

"Wait, tomorrow?" His tone changes once again. Like now, he's truly upset, and not just because he's ashamed.

"Yeah, I texted you."

"I have no clue where my phone is, honestly."

"Hey, we'll find it," I reassured him. "Let's just start by cleaning out this trash over here."

"No, wait."

"What?" I don't stop to look up at him. It was obvious I needed his room clean as much as he did. But what he said next caught my attention.

"Do you wanna go to the zoo?"

"The zoo? Right now?"

"Please. You shouldn't have to clean up my mess the last time you see me."

"Right, yeah. Well, if you're sure. I-I don't have money with me, to buy-"

"Nope, I'll pay. Whatever you want," he blurts out. He didn't even have to think about it. He goes searching for his wallet.

"Whatever I want? I can't do that."

"Please."

"No, it's just, I'd rather have something to take with me that you made. Something special. Not something you bought. I guess I'm just weird like that."

"No, not at all. I understand. Still, I want to take you to the zoo, and we can have one last fantastic day together. Despite the fact I can't find my phone, my room's a mess, and today is honestly really sad for both of us."

I take a moment to consider it. A day at the zoo with my crush. Who would say no to that? "Fine, I suppose that would be fun," I sigh dramatically.

Only five minutes later, we are on the road together in his car. This is the last day I'll probably ever sit this close to him. Listening to our favorite bands. Admiring that smile of his. The next time I glance over at him, I can't seem to look the other way.

"What's wrong? You're tearing up."

"Oh. I'm sorry," I mumble, a tear trickling down my cheek. He slows down.

"Do I need to pull over? What happened?"

I let my tears spill out along with my words. "Are we never gonna see each other again?"

He doesn't say anything, or even react. It made me scared. He continues driving, but he finally speaks up, after about a minute. "I hope we do. I really hope we do." He takes out a cigarette from his pocket as he keeps one hand on the steering wheel. He reaches to the glove box and digs out a lighter. I lean back slightly and watch as he forgets I'm even in the car.

"You smoke..."

He takes a long drag before finally releasing a bit of the tension he kept locked up in his shoulders. "I've never had a friend like you. I don't want to let that go," he mutters in a deep, emotional tone, "I haven't been bothered to take care of myself because you were the one person I was able to look forward to seeing. Now you're leaving me."

I had never expected him to be so deep with me. Just a year ago, we barely even talked. I could have sworn he saw me as that one distant cousin you were forced to talk to once every Thanksgiving. "Seb, I didn't want to leave you. I didn't even know I meant that much to you. I just want to remember us like we are today. Let's just forget for a while that I'm even leaving. Please."

And so we did. We saw the elephants, the giraffes, and the lions. The aquarium, with all the sharks. The tigers. I can still hear the very last words he spoke to me before I left late that afternoon. I stood outside his house with him. He took both our empty ice cream cups inside to throw away, then came back outside to sit on the steps with me. "I know, Tarah. I know you're sad. I know, for whatever reason you're leaving, you don't ever want anyone to hurt. And if it's best for you, I'll be alright letting you go."

"And if we never see each other again? After we graduate?"

"Tigers all have different patterns in their stripes, you know?" Sebastian sniffles through his tears, taking his hand in mine. "I wish we had gotten closer sooner. But you know what? I'll remember you. I'll go out someday and I'll find you, if you can't find me."

And since then, I've been able to feel myself change. In such a short amount of time, it's like I've been able to feel new emotions, and experience these painfully beautiful, and painfully dark things I never knew before that night existed.

***After framing every last band poster, and stringing every last string of lights, I finally move onto my last two boxes. It was 11:02 at night, and I was exhausted and hadn't checked my phone most of the day. My hair was still choppy and I had yet to fix it, but I was focused on one thing. And that was to finish packing, so maybe my new life will finally seem real.

As soon as I empty out the rest of my clothes into my closet, I finally fix up my hair. Well, I try to at least. I had to position my phone in front of me as I stood in front of the bathroom mirror to see where I was cutting, and that's when I got a text message.

Jesse <3: "Hey, you have got to check out this app I just got! It's great for meeting friends, and especially people of the LGBTQ community. People from all over the world can see your profile and what you like."

Me: "I don't know, Jess. I've had a really long day. Maybe I'll check it out tomorrow or something."

Jesse <3: "No worries! I hope you make tons of friends at your new school! I figured that this app would be great to start getting out there online again now that you're out to more people."

Me: "It's gonna be a lot harder than I thought, if I'm being honest. Thank you. Oh, I cut my hair by the way."

Jesse <3: "What????"

Jesse <3: "Lucian??"

I put my phone down and took a deep breath in, before exhaling and shakily bringing the same scissors I used earlier to my hair. I touch up the ends so they are more even. The cut was a bit shaggy, a little shorter than shoulder length, and I gave myself long, wispy bangs that just barely got in the way of my eyes every now and then. I eventually become satisfied enough to where I can leave it be, and settle in for bed.

Me: "Sorry, Jess. I had to fix it a bit. I'll send you a pic."

Attached to the message was a picture of the front of my hair, and a picture of the back. He didn't respond as soon as he usually did, so I assumed he had just fallen asleep. It was getting late, after all. Hm, maybe I should check out this app. Download it, and see how it works?

I clicked on the link that Jesse had sent me earlier. It sent me to the app store on my phone, and I clicked the install button. The reviews were pretty good for the most part, and the preview of the app looked like it would be easy to set up and use. I was warned many times before not to believe that everyone you meet on the internet is who they say they are, so of course I had my concerns, but the app provided plenty of precautions and verification to be sure that we are all teenagers, which is who the app is made for. I was sure many people on this app were just looking for someone to date, or mess around with. But I still set up a profile, because maybe there are some people out there like me.

I was instructed to choose two photos of myself, so that's what I first did. Selfies I took right after I cut my hair just a few minutes beforehand. I have a habit of covering my mouth or hiding my face in my pictures, after years of being bullied and feeling like even if I'm the only one that sees said pictures, it would be necessary to do so. My lips were chapped, nearly all the time. And I didn't want anyone from my old school to recognize me, so I figured it was a good thing for once that I had posed like that. A lot of profiles I had seen after creating my own only had pictures of their pets, or the sunset. So I ended up changing one to a picture of Ray, Lora's cat, who was sitting on the edge of my bed. For once, I didn't even feel strange typing out the name "Lucian" in my username. Or, guilty. My parents won't be around anymore to be disappointed, so maybe that's why I'm starting to feel different. Have I been holding back, because I'm afraid of hurting them? I know deep down that I shouldn't ever have to apologize for being me, but growing up, I kind of had to, or just hid altogether, so I could keep the peace.

Part of me didn't quite understand how to classify certain people as my friends. A friend to me is someone like Noa, or Jesse. I've both known them since I was little. Of course, if they ever did something that broke my trust beyond repair, I would probably let them go, right? We've had our arguments, but Noa and Jesse both bounced back and I did the same. Is it the same when I meet people online? I don't know if they're lying about their talents or hobbies. Their interests. I won't know their true intentions until after they hurt me. Is it supposed to be this scary, or am I just simply overthinking it?

I swipe through multiple profiles. Some of their descriptions read their age, what pronouns to use, and that they want friends. Others only read "swipe right if you wanna get freaky." I expected to come across plenty of those. But I just wanted a friend. Someone who could listen. Someone that won't judge me, and sincerely likes me for me.

Within the first twenty minutes of using the app, I had gotten two messages. One of them said "hey," and it came from a fifteen year old, named Lily. She was from Arkansas. Her profile read that she loves to paint, and play with her dogs. She had long blonde braids and a bright smile. In a lot of ways, she reminded me of Noa. I decided to start a conversation.

Me: "Hi, Lily! How are you??"

Lily: "I'm not too bad. I am waiting for my art project for school to dry. How are you tonight?"

Me: "I'm doing alright! What kind of art project, if you don't mind me asking? Is it a painting?"

Lily: "Yes! I'll send you a picture."

She had answered to me almost immediately both times. Only a minute later, I received a photo of a painting Lily painted. The camera quality on her phone wasn't the best, but the canvas was tall and painted with vivid colors. Mostly warm colors, with splashes of blue here and there. There are darker shades of the same colors painted within the abstract art, creating a portrait of a dog in dark blues and greens.

Me: "Wow, that's incredible! How long did that take you?"

Lily: "Only a couple weeks. I wanted to make sure it was perfect. It's due Monday."

Me: "You'll have to let me know how you did! I love exploring different styles of art, but I'm not the best at it myself."

Lily: "Well, what kinds of things are you good at then?"

Me: "I've always enjoyed writing, I guess. If you would call that a talent."

Lily: "Like poetry? Songs?"

Me: "It's been my dream to write a book series. Even get good enough at art to illustrate and write a children's book series. I love writing short stories at the moment, like sci-fi and romance novellas!"

Lily: "That's really fascinating! I hope you don't mind, but I have to be up fairly early tomorrow, so I should go soon. But we can talk more the next time I'm online, yeah?"

Me: "No problem! Have a great night!"

That was... easy. Very easy. I didn't panic, or feel the need to lie. She didn't ask uncomfortable questions. Beginners' luck, perhaps? There were three more requests from other people that I had yet to respond to, but I was too exhausted to get a message into a conversation, knowing that after that, I'd be half asleep. I'll wait til morning to continue disappointing people, I thought.

When I woke up the next morning, however, my profile didn't disappoint anyone, to my knowledge. I had over thirty friend requests from the time I was asleep, and I was almost too shocked by that fact that I didn't realize I had twelve missed calls from my mom. But then I got a thirteenth; this time, I answered.

"Hello?" I ask, my voice still flooded with sleep and confusion.

"Atarah Bucur, it is ten fifteen. Have you just woken up?"

"Yes, mom. What's the emergency?"

"The emergency is that I no longer have any trust in you. How can we just send you off to a new school and have me expect you not to fail if you can't even answer your own mother's calls?"

"I'm sorry, geez. I had my phone on silent."

"Why, cause you want to mute me? I'm still here, and so is the girl I gave birth to sixteen years ago, inside of that lost soul of yours. I want you to come back home."

"Are you kidding me? I was up until nearly midnight unpacking every last one of my belongings I brought with me, and you know what? I was never the girl you thought you gave birth to. Can't you just accept you were wrong?"

I could hear her gasp, trying to find a leg to stand on in this argument. Then, she pulled out the one weapon she knew would trigger me. "I am appalled! How can you speak to me like that? Gram Gram would be so disappointed in you right now."

"Gram Gram? Don't you dare ever bring her up. She would have loved me for who I had to hide from you! She hated you. How dare you try to manipulate me to come home with her name? When did you ever agree with anything she had to say about me?"

"Now you watch your mouth." At this point, Lora had walked in and stood at the doorway of my bedroom, reaching out to give me a signal that she is my biggest supporter.

"I'm not afraid of you anymore. I don't care how much I stir the pot. You were never a good mother to me, and thanks to you never even trying to understand your son, you drove me away from my friends. My brother. My dad. The only thing I have to look forward to anymore is being away from you." And with those last words, only hearing one final gasp from my mother, I hung up. It had to be said. With her, it would have to be said over and over, and she still wouldn't get it. I just want her to know how badly she failed. Not only as a mother, but at being a decent human being in her own child's eyes.

"You know, I'm not one for enforcing conflict. But you blocked her out, and said what needed to be said. I'm proud of you for realizing that she was no help to supporting your dreams, and who you are."

I take a look at my aunt, her long dark hair flowing down beautifully, her makeup fully done, and wearing a flowy white skirt, a blue top, and a darker blue shawl over it.

"Thank you. You know, the weirdest thing is, I'm finally not scared. I'm so far away from her, and I think that's why I'm not crying."

Lora sits down on the edge of my bed, wrapping her thin arms around me. She places a soft kiss on my forehead. "Sweetie, did she make you afraid?"

"Yes. Yes, all the time. She wouldn't hit me as often as she did when I was really little, but, as I got older, her words hurt even worse as I realized I was becoming everything she feared." My voice broke further with every word I spoke, until I buried my face into her shawl.

"That truly breaks my heart, but we both know that we were never in the wrong for having our unique paths that led up both to the points in life we are in, right?" She rubs my back, trying to soothe me, but allowing me to cry. "I know you miss your friends, and your dad and Stefan, but aren't you happy you can be Lucian now?"

"Yes, of course. I love that, but it still scares me. I've never been away from the people I grew up around, and now I'm living so far away. What if... Will I change? Then I come back to my friends someday and we have nothing in common, and my mom changed?"

"I understand how scary change can be," she says empathetically. "Sometimes, you just have to trust that the universe will guide you to where you are supposed to be, even if it brings you heartbreak. And I'll always be there for those moments. As long as you continue to be true to yourself, you will find happiness, and be comfortable here, I just know it."

As much as I wanted to believe her, the cloud of depressing, discouraging thoughts that most likely stemmed mainly from my own mother, still hung over me as my aunt cooked up breakfast. I told her to surprise me, and she left to get to work on making a "five star breakfast," as she put it. She closed the door behind her, and then I finally got up to get dressed. I open up my closet, admiring my seemingly new wardrobe. Most of the items of clothing hung up in the closet were things that I bought while Jesse guided me over the phone, after my pizza date with Sebastian. But they had been stuffed away in a box in my closet, and some under my bed. I threw out most of my old clothes before I left yesterday. I picked out a dark blue sweater, black jeans, and my good black tennis shoes. After a quick brush through my newly cut hair, and accessorizing with my favorite thick chain silver necklace and lucky black bracelets, I grab my phone, the empty glass of water I greedily finished gulping down at 3am, and make my way out to the kitchen. I quickly rinse the glass and the few dishes from last night as Lora finished making breakfast.

"Oh, sweetheart, I can take care of that later."

"Hm? I don't mind, really. I'm more than happy to help out since I'm going to be living here. If you need me to feed the cats or take care of the litter box, laundry, I can take care of that. I used to have a lot of chores to do each day."

"I suppose it would be nice to have some help, and I wouldn't want you to begin lacking structure or discipline. But if you ever need breaks to focus on school, don't feel bad if you're not the first to get to the dishes or the laundry."

"Ha, I guess I'm still getting used to how different you and my mom are. In the best way."

Lora smiles warmly at me as she observes my outfit. I finish wiping my hands on a towel as she speaks softly. "You look really nice today, by the way. I absolutely adore your new haircut on you."

"Thanks. You look really nice too." For some reason, she reminded me of Sebastian, which kind of creeped me out at first. But she had the long, dark hair that she seemed to take very good care of. Very artsy and free spirited. Much into the arts rather than school smarts. Lora actually went to a school for actors for a short while, but dropped out to become a dancer. She performed acrobatics as well and currently works at a gymnastics studio for young children. Lora loves taking care of people. As the day wears on, I realize that Sebastian is just, everywhere. Everywhere I look.

Outside, when Lora and I walked to the park after breakfast, a man was feeding the birds on a white bench, and something about his facial features reminded me of him. Until we walked closer, and he disappeared. I wanted to back up, or rewind. To see him again. Sebastian and I, of course, could always text and call each other. But he always sounded so dry. He never used emojis or sent photos. No punctuation half the time. He texted like a forty year old man. But just hearing his voice, at least, would be a start. Maybe later I would call him.

Later came, and I still hadn't called him. I kept putting it off, afraid he would find it weird, or think I was being too clingy. I hadn't even texted him since I got here, even though I told him I would let him know I got here safe. But she hadn't even texted me, so I didn't even bother.

I scroll through the multiple friend requests I had gotten last night, and find a few people on that app that I actually enjoyed talking to. I talked once again to Lily, met a boy named Lewis, and another girl named Chelsea. Finally, one user only had a combination of numbers and letters. I was intrigued by the pictures, though. A picture of a lemon tree, a cloud in the shape of a heart, and a cup of coffee sat at a wooden table at what looked to be a fancy coffee shop. I had no idea if they were a male or female. The only interests posted on their bio were art, sports, and movies.

Wanting to know more about this mysterious stranger, I accepted the friend request.

Me: "Hi!"

66ys4vc: "Hey! Finally, someone who swiped right on me"

Me: "Well, you didn't exactly give us much to work with. If you don't mind me asking, are you male or female?"

66ys4vc: "Does it matter? I don't mind really but just to be clear, I'm only here for friends. I'm a guy"

Me: "Oh, trust me, I'm not looking for a relationship either. Too complicated right now."

66ys4vc: "Oh? You look very nice, and seem interesting. I don't see why someone wouldn't like you"

Me: "It's more like, I got torn away from someone I deeply cared about. And now I'm living five hours away from my family, friends, and childhood crush."

He took a minute to respond, even after reading it. Did I overshare? Does he not like me? Did I say something wrong?

66ys4vc: "Wow, I'm sorry. Love is difficult. It never seems to work quite right, and when it does, it isn't always what you thought it would be"

Me: "I suppose. I'm not sure of much right now, but he made me really happy. Whether or not we would have lasted forever, I almost stayed in the hell hole I lived in purely because I got to see him."

66ys4vc: "You seem very sweet, I bet he appreciates that you considered him in all that"