I hate her.

It was early September 2015. I was a first semester sophomore in college, and she was a first semester Freshman (ew). We were both at a retreat for a club called EOL that we had both apparently joined. I had no idea who she was, but I hated her nonetheless. She was being very flirtatious with the guy I had begun to form a crush on since the retreat started the previous day, and that was unacceptable.

I saw her the following month at a potluck and bowling alley party that EOL was hosting. I had no more hard feeling towards her, so when she asked for a ride to the bowling alley, I said I’d give her one because what the hell. She seemed nice enough. As we drove from the potluck to the bowling alley, taking a few wrong turns along the way, I came to learn that her name was Kaitlynn (Katie for short), that she had an on-again/off-again boyfriend of four years, and that she was bisexual.

I also came to learn that she sucked at bowling. She loves Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Harry Potter. She loves and has a Pit Bull and, along with her family, is a passionate Pit Bull activist. She loves the colors red, maroon, and black. She loves coffee, wine and Red Bulls. She loves Paris and was going to study abroad there in the summer. She loves kids and that she is pursuing a psychology degree at Kennesaw so that she can help at-risk youth.

A month later, I also learned that she had a crush on me.

At the time, I didn’t have one on her. Despite the un-mutual attraction, we became really good friends, really fast. We did most things together, especially during the Spring semester. The more we hung out, the more I began to realize how cute, funny, and smart she really was and that I had more than friendly feelings for her, but I, a self-diagnosed heterosexual girl, could not like Katie, a fellow girl, in a non-platonic way… right?

Well it turns out that the answer to that question is wrong. Very wrong. I got jealous when Katie would go on dates or really just not hang out with me. I know how juvenile and selfish that sounds, but, hey, that’s the way it was. I began to wish that I was with Katie when I was alone or with people. I really wanted to be with her, but I had no idea how to explain them to myself, let alone her.

Although I was feeling this way, I would still joke around and over emphasis, painfully so, the fact that I was straight to Katie so that she would never suspect that I was actually having feelings for her.

Well my plan worked. When I finally told her how I felt, she was very skeptical and cautious.

Damn it.

Through the next few months, my feelings just grew more intense, so I would ask to hold her hand in public. She would hesitantly do it because what the hell. I seemed like I was trying and really wanted it to work. As the months went by, even through some major wrong turns on my part, I came to learn that she makes the cutest scrunched-up face when you touch her nose, that she has the longest eyelashes, that she grinds her teeth in her sleep, that she puts the toilet paper on the right way (over), that she is covered in hundreds of beautiful freckles, that she won’t wear a black shirt with dark blue jeans, that she loves to bake and is great at it, that she takes 90-minute showers, and that she is selfless, understanding, and supportive.

It was May 29, 2016. I had just finished my second year of college, and she had just finished her first (again, ew). We were both laying in her bed in her old bedroom in her parents’ house. I knew exactly who she was, and loved every part of her. We were finally dating after months of mismatched crushes, and that was fantastic.

I love her.