As I awoke one sunny afternoon (I sleep late shut up), I looked across my array of homosexual flags plastered on my wall, and out my window. There she was again, that stupid Lainie Peterson. We've lived next to each other for what, 8 years now? And i still couldn't summon up the courage to ask her out. I know she's gay, i've seen her with girlfriend, Lucy Pratt. And i'm not a creep, she just leaves her windows open like, 24/7 and I unwillingly hear a lot.
I first realized I had feelings for her when we talked at school. I had "gotten a little sassy" in class and moved next to her. She hated me at first, because she was always sitting alone at recess (this flashback is from 6th grade, by the by) and was destined to hate everybody at our school. Well, that's not entirely true, she just didn't put the effort into making friends. She cut her own bangs and dyed her hair purple, but I thought that was cute?
That moment, I realized that I had the Big Gay™
