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Day 16 – A picture from your first LGBT relationship or of your first LGBT crush.

I think my first girl crush might not appreciate me plastering her picture all over the web, but I can certainly give you a mental image. From the back, people might see her petite build and flannel-based wardrobe and mistake her for me, if her colorfully-dyed emo hair wasn’t so different from my plain brown ponytail. The boys around us loved making the pair of us giggle. I met her through extracurriculars, and originally had a crush on her exboyfriend. (Sometimes, being bi is really awkward…) I loved her goofiness and how sad she was underneath it. She knew about my crush all along from my not-at-all-subtle hints, but was physically affectionate anyways: sitting in my lap, holding my hand, touching my hair. She was undoubtedly straight, and therefore it wasn’t so much leading me on as gentle and friendly reassurance.

My first relationship with a girl is current and informal, although if I were going to be honest with myself I would have to admit that I love her at least a little bit. She is beautiful and bizarre, like some anachronistic fairy, with these huge innocent brown eyes. Though she seems naive or shy at first, she is the world’s best kept secret when it comes to kink and polyamory. She constantly interrupts any sexual activity at any opportunity for an in-depth discussion of intellectual issues like weight-based prejudice and Japanese history. At one of her singing gigs, she invited me up to dance with her like ridiculous idiots. I am fascinated by her, the paleness of her skin touching my tan, the perfect flatness of her stomach, the artistry and class she puts into her clothes and hair and makeup. She is a kissing connoisseur, as opposed to my playful and irreverent appetite for fucking. The better I get to know her, the more beautiful I think she is. Isn’t that always the way?