When I was 5 years old, I was in love with my next door neighbor, David. (David isn’t reading this, but his sister, Dana, might be.
Hi!) He was charming and funny, older than me, smart, close in proximity, had blonde hair, and his mom always let me stay for dinner.
The whole package really. I want to say he liked me back—I mean, he kissed me, and I feel like that means like-like, right?—but if anyone was around, he’d never show it.
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