Love and stuff
When my brother and I moved into this house about six months ago, I took an instant liking to one of the girls who'd already lived here for a couple of weeks. As time went by my feelings for her grew, and something about her manner around me made me wonder whether she might like me also. I told myself she couldn't possibly, while at the same time becoming convinced that she did. I learnt that it's entirely possible to be simultaneously certain that something is true and that it isn't.
Then one day she told me about some guy at work she liked. Half of me collapsed in a heap with disappointment, and the other yelled "I told you so!" repeatedly. My hope dwindled to a wish. I kept a straight face as I told her that if she liked someone, maybe she should just let them know instead of hiding it. Weeks passed, the semester ended and everyone began studying for exams (apart from those people that already had been, and those who were too lazy - a group to which I regretfully confess I belong).
It was a few days later that she was going out drinking with friends and invited me along. I thought that studying would probably be a better idea, but because I liked her I decided to accompany them anyway. I think I had a vague hope that maybe we'd get drunk and hook up, but I never really thought it would. I'd never really been out before and I got her to tell me what to drink and disliked everything, and then didn't get drunk until everyone was leaving, but it wasn't the worst night of my life.
And then as we were walking home she took hold of my hand. In my drunken state I was unsure what this meant, but I held it firmly until we arrived back. I don't remember if we made tea or something like that, but I know that we ended up curled on the sofa, hugging each other, and stayed that way until the early hours of the morning. I think we then moved to her bed and went back to sleep.
We hung out together the next few days, spending our evenings similarly (minus the drinking), and somehow after all this I was still convinced that she didn't like me. I recall walking with her down by the river at the back of our university's campus, and standing awkwardly beneath a tree wondering whether to hug her or whether that wouldn't be appropriate. But then after we walked back up and she was about to go into an exam she hugged me, and I waited a couple of hours in a nearby library for her to finish. I think it was that night that we first kissed.
I'd only ever kissed one girl before, and just a few times on one evening, and that had been French kissing only. Kissing her lips was awkward the first time, but I tried again in the kitchen while we were making tea and it was better. A few days later, after considerably more kissing, she asked if we were dating, and around that time I began sleeping exclusively in her bed (apart from a couple of nights when she wasn't here).
I fell in love with her over the next month or so, or at some point during that time, but although I was fairly sure she loved me as well I couldn't say it because I was worried it was too soon, and that she would not respond with the same. I caught myself saying it without thinking a few times and had to change course mid-sentence. I worried that she noticed this, and she did, but that turned out to be a good thing. We went to a party some time later and when we were walking back, both considerably drunk, she told me that she "more than liked me". I told her that I also "more than liked" her too (yes, it was a stupid conversation, but we were drunk), and she told me to tell her in different words. I told her that I didn't want to say it for the first time while we were drunk, and I still slightly regret doing so, but she made me and I did. I told her I loved her, and she told me she loved me, and then we made out in a bus stop for a while.
I can't really say I'm happy because she's depressed and it depresses me, but she says I make her happy, which I suppose I care more about than myself being so anyway. We lost our virginities to each other about a week ago, which wasn't as special or amazing as I expected but maybe that was because we'd already been doing things to each other with our hands and I'd already been down on her a couple of times. Anyway, we've done it lots more already...
So, yeah. I love her, she loves me, our lives are still not great but we have each other at least. I just hope her father doesn't kill me for sleeping with her, apparently he threatened one of her ex-boyfriends that he would if he ever took her clothes off but I'm sure he wasn't entirely serious.
tl;dr: got a girlfriend, we're in love, blah blah blah.
edit: holy fuck I didn't realise this was that long