I found this on Queer Secrets, an LGBT Tumblr blog devoted to posting the “secrets” that people send in.  I know what it is like to feel this way about someone, at least to a degree.  My person, however, was a boy.  I will give him the pseudonym Angeline here, because like with Genevieve, I want him to have a pretty name.  Angeline also means “angel”, and he was that to me also.

He was my angel because he was my friend.  I often teased him, and he’d retaliate by chasing me around the yard we all called a playground.  When he was given detention, I skipped my recess to be with him.  When I found out he self-injured, I told Davina (another pseudonym) what was going on.  Davina was the head teacher there, and she told Angeline’s mother, Kaleela (pseudonym), what was happening.  I was known as so close to Angeline that one day, I asked Davina what was wrong with him.  She looked a little hesitant, but led me outside.

“You know that Angeline had a brain tumor when he was very young, right?  Well, that tumor affected his brain in certain ways.  Much like your mother’s stroke affected her.  As a result, Angeline cannot always tell appropriate behavior from inappropriate behavior.  He needs special help for that.  He also has a hard time with reading and writing, just like your mother.”
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