So, while I was answering a question on my ask.fm  (Ask me a question?), I realized something.

The question was, "What is your biggest regret?" I answered that it was not telling the guy I liked that I liked him before he left.

I don't know if many of you read it, but a few months ago, I would usually post about how happy that I was to be spending time with my friend, who I soon developed a crush on. What I hadn't realized really at the time was that he was my first real crush. And I'm saying this because yes, I liked a few people before, but that was all in middle school, and it was usually just because I thought that I liked the person. I never really felt anything for them, and I never did anything about it. I just kept it at friendship.

I was 17 when I had my first actual crush on a guy, and I wasn't even brave enough to tell him, and that is my biggest regret.

Maybe he already knew that I liked him. It could be was he was so nice to me before he left, hugging me, holding my hand, letting me hold onto his arm, showing off in front of me, and always teasing me. I said before that my idea person was tall, but he wasn't. He was less than an inch taller than me, and even though I've always said that I prefer older guys, he was a few months younger than me. But that didn't stop the butterflies in my stomach from nearly ripping me to shreds. Was it love? I'll never know. I'll never have the chance to really know, because I don't have experience in relationships. I write all of these romance fics but I've never been in a single relationship. I've never had a guy tell me that he liked me, and I've never told a guy that I liked him. I've never been confident enough to tell someone that I wanted to be their girlfriend, because I've never been confident with myself. I've grown up with a sister that everyone calls a model (she actually is one now) and another sister that has enough self-confidence to spread to the whole world and still have millions for herself. 

But when I was with him, I never felt uncomfortable. I was nervous, yes. I was always afraid that I'd do something weird and screw up his impression of me, but I was always comfortable around him. And if I ever did make a mistake, he'd make me laugh about it. He wouldn't allow me to feel uncomfortable. 

He'd always go to my class when I had a free period, and sit down beside me. Sometimes he'd pull my headphones right out of my ears and put his own in, so that he could show me the new music he'd been listening to. After lunch, our classes were right next door, and while everyone else in our classes would take the short cut, he'd drag me around the long way, walking purposely slower, and teasing me every chance he got. One time he even dragged me to his locker, even though we were both already about late, and still made up walk the long way, just because he wanted us to. He was always the gentleman too. He'd always walk ahead to open a door, and if he didn't make it in time and I opened the door instead, he wouldn't walk through the doors. He'd move behind me, hold the door, and push me through if I refused to move. 

Sometimes he'd say the worst jokes but I always laughed, because he looked so cute trying to be funny. He was always funnier when he didn't try. Sometimes just the smaller things he'd do got me to laugh the most.

After our class that was next to each other ended, he'd come up behind me and grab my bag, pushing me through the halls and "forcing me" to walk him to his next class. I always thought it was weird because isn't the guy supposed to walk the girl to class? But he wasn't exactly the most predicable person either. He'd do whatever he wanted, however he wanted, and still manage to be perfect in my eyes. Really though, he'd keep me there at his class until the bell rang and he allowed me to leave. Sometimes I had to push him into his class so that he'd go. If he didn't grab my bag, he'd grab my arm or my hand.

We'd go to the movies together. We'd watch any movie we thought of. We went to the movies practically every two weeks. It was weird because one of his other friends worked there, and his friend would always tease us, though I don't think he ever noticed. His friend, Garrett (just so that you know that his friend that worked there was a guy), would send me looks whenever he wasn't looking, sometimes a wink or something, and I'd sadly shake my head, because even if his friend thought we were dating, I knew that we weren't and probably never would.

The time for prom came, and I couldn't even gather the courage to ask him to my own senior prom. When I finally did thought that I could ask, he was telling me about how someone asked him, and how he was going with her, and I completely changed the topic, not wanting to make a fool of myself by asking him something I already knew the answer to. I went to my senior prom alone, but I wasn't too hurt by it.

In the end, he spent more time dancing and talking with me, than with his own date.

And the whole time, Garret was giving me the same knowing look he always did.

The sad thing was that I was graduating, he wasn't. He was a junior and I was a senior. While all of the other seniors were so excited to get out of school a month and a half earlier than everyone else, I wanted to cry, because it meant that my time with him was so much more limited. I wouldn't get to see him 5 times a week. I couldn't walk with him to class and laugh with him as we walked side by side. He wouldn't be there with that stupid bet of trying to scare me, and even though I still saw all of my senior friends, I felt so lonely not being able to see him. We'd text every day though. I'd always about how I was out of school and he had to suffer in there, while really, I was suffering without him.

All of my friends wondered when we would get together. They'd all tease me to just tell him already. All of them thought that he felt the same way, because we were the closest. We were the ones that could whisper in Spanish to each other so that no one else would know what we were saying, even though sometimes we could barely understand each other. (Dominican spanish [me] is very different from Mexican spanish [him]). 

My biggest problem wasn't that he wasn't much taller than me, or that he was younger than me. My biggest problem was that he was just an exchange student. He was only there for that school year, and then he'd be going back to Mexico, to his family. And even if he wasn't leaving, I still was. At the time, I was still getting ready to go to college. I'm 4 and a half hours away from home. There's no way we'd still be seeing each other. 

When it was almost time for him to leave, we went out. Him, my best friend Natasha (who he was also close with), and my cousin (who he had never met), and I. We went rollerskating, because Natasha loved it, and I was still learning. Now, my main point in bringing up my cousins presense in this, is that my cousin is much prettier than me. She's just all around prettier, and he barely looked at her.

He got rollerblades after I said that they were harder to use and chose rollerskates for myself. He said that he could use rollerblades; no problem. I saw him almost fall five minutes later, but he proved himself by the end of the night. The whole time, if he wasn't by my side, helping me stay balanced, then he was taking a lap around the rink without me, showing off, and he'd make it back to me before I even made it halfway around. For a while, he held my hand to help me, and a while after that, he put my hand on his arm to give me more leverage. Sometimes, he'd come up behind me and grab my waist to push me forward. The whole night, he was trying to learn tricks from other skaters to show them to me. To prove to me that he could do them himself. 

If he saw that I was tired, he'd lead me to the sitting area and he'd sit beside me until I decided to get up and keep skating. I had no doubt that I was blushing the entire time.

At one point, when I managed to convince him that I would be fine and the he could go skate without me, my cousin came and took his place, and proceed to tell me 5 reasons why she thought he liked me. She knew him for about an hour, and she was telling me things I have never even realized.

1. He continuously teases you and only you.

2. When he's around you, his hands usually in his pockets. According to what she learned in her psycology class, that was a guy's way of showing his masculinity. Apparently, he only did that around me.

3. He held my hand and let me hold onto his arm.

4. He was trying to show off and impress me.

5. The way he looked at me.

That one got to me the most, because apparently, she had seen something in his gaze that I failed continuously to see. Despite all of the eye-contact we always made, I always failed to recognize the look in his eyes that my cousin said was clearly there. 

But I knew that in just one week, he was leaving. He was leaving, I would never see him again, and I didn't want to put myself in anymore emotional turmoil. I had alreadyy set it in my mind that he was leaving, and that I was alright with that. I told myself that I was okay with him never knowing how much I really cared about him, much more than a friend cared for another friend. Hell, he even knew my parents. My dad loved to just sit down and talk to him, and my friend would talk to my dad so naturally. He had practically claimed my mother as his own, hugging her when he saw her, and she had no problem hugging back. 

I never questioned his love for fantasy movies, and he never questioned my love for kpop. Actually he liked anime, one of the things we had in common. And I always thought, "Wow. I've found the perfect guy. He's attractive, smart, gentle, sweet, playful, funny, caring, and he doesn't judge a single one of my little quirks. He accepts everything about me, and he pays attention to what I say. He's actually curious about why I love kpop so much. Sometimes, he just chooses not to even ask. He just lets me be, and I'm thankful for that."

Two days before he leaves and he, Natasha, and I are going out to lunch and then back to my house. And while we're at my house, we play games and watch anime and towards the end of the night, his head is on my lap, he's looking up at me while teasing me, and I've never wanted to kiss someone more than I did in that moment. I've never even had my first kiss. I'm 18 years old and I've never dated anyone, never told someone I liked them, and I've never had my first kiss. But I was willing to give it to him. I want to, I really did, but I didn't. I couldn't, because I thought I'd ruin everything if I tried. So I didn't. I buried the desire to six feet under, along with every hope I had of having a chance to in the future.

When it was time for them to leave, I made him promise me that he'd stay in touch after he left. I made him promise that he wouldn't forget any of us, and that he'd keep talking to me.

It worked for the first few months. He spoke often. 

And then on one day in August, he just stopped responding. No, he isn't dead. I can see when he posts things on Facebook. I know he's there, but he doesn't try to talk, and I won't either. I gave up on sending him messages when I realized that I wouldn't get a reply until hours or days later. And I start to wonder that maybe it's for the best this way. Maybe if I keep messaging him, I'm only going to hurt more, because even now, when I say that I'm over him, and that I'll find a relationship here in college, I think of him nearly every day. With every guy I meet, I compare them. I think of all of the things that my friend would do, that these guys seems so incapable of doing. Everything reminds me of him. When I see someone taking a snapchat, I think of the times he'd "secretly" take a picture of me, which wasn't so secret because he'd show me the picture after. When I see someone eating spicy food, I think, "He could eat spicier things. He'd order the spiciest thing on the menu and still add more hot sause to it, because it wasn't spicy enough for him." 

So maybe it's a good thing that we don't keep in touch like he promised, because I'd only think of him more than I already do. 

I don't know if it was love. I've never experienced a relationship to know if it was or not. 

But on top of him being my first real crush, I'd like to think that he was my first love. And first loves are unforgettable, aren't they? A lot of the time, I wish I could just erase his memory from me. I wish I wouldn't love Lord of the Rings and the Hobbit so much, because he was the one that got me into it. I wish I could look at a guy without thinking of him instead. But as of right now, I can't, and I don't know when I'll be able to again. 

Most of the time I wish it would be like in those 2min fics where Minho and Taemin get separated, and 2 years later they find each other again, and they love each other just as much as they did before. 

But it's not. It's not a fanfiction. It's not a fantasy with a happy ending. This is my reality.

And one day I'll get over him. One day, I'll feel confident enough to message him again on Facebook and ask him how he's doing without wondering if he'd be as happy as he is over there, if I was with him. Maybe even one day, I could ask him if he has a girlfriend, and congradulate him if he does, telling him how pretty she is and how happy for him I am, and be sincere about it.

Today isn't that day though. I don't know when it will be, but I hope that day will come soon. 

Until then, I'll be building up my courage.

Sorry for boring you with my personal failed love story. I just need to get it own, and this seemed like the best place to do it. If you managed to suffer through my depressing story, then wow. Thank you, and sorry for putting you through that. :)