I had practically known Patrick since I was a foetus. I was five months older than him, -this would become evidently clearer in our adolescent years- but that still never got in the way of our friendship. His family had moved to the same street as me three months after I was born.

It all gets a little hazy until first grade.

We never had really had any interaction whatsoever until that joyous day when we were six years old.

It must have been two weeks into school that I first acknowledged him; don't get me wrong, I had seen him playing by himself in his front yard numerous times as a child, but that didn't mean I had actually spoken to him.

Kids had taken to calling him "Nothing" very early on in our childhood, and curiosity struck me as to why. So, one recess whilst he was drawing rainbows –more on the desk rather than on the paper provided- with an abundance of different crayons that he had no doubt 'borrowed' from the other children, I had decided to march up to him and ask him why.

Typical Patrick, instead of giving me an answer, he simply held out an orange crayon with that infectious grin that can still be seen at the present day plastered to his face. Since that day, that precise moment – I was doomed forevermore.

He was always very popular with everyone, how could he not be? No one ever seemed to mind that he was gay. I think I knew even before he told me when we were ten years old. His cheeky grin, his upbeat outlook on life, his beautiful eyes… I'd think it strange if he wasn't.

But I just wish… Ah, it doesn't even matter. This is just the prologue you know? The bit before you get to the actual story.

This is an impossible story. One of confusion, and love, and hate and pain.

Have you ever felt so strongly about a person that you thought you might spontaneously combust if you don't have them? But you know that there isn't a chance in hell that you ever could have them because God just hates you like that. Well have you?

I hope you have. I don't want to be the only one.

When we were fifteen, Sam came into the picture. She was very pretty, outgoing, and knew her own mind. To be honest I was rather jealous of her. But that was just my vanity talking. Sam was much more than that, she still is.

She always saw it.

"Mary?" she had said one lunch time whilst Patrick was currently in the process of humming loudly and smoking a cigarette at the same time.

"Yes?"

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" She looked rather adamant so I agreed.

"Hey! Where do you ladies think you're going?" Patrick yelled as we stood up from the bench.

"We think it's none of your business" Sam laughed.

He placed in hand over his mouth in mock outrage, but soon started to laugh himself.

"OK, well you better hurry or else you're walking home!"

I stared at him. "Pat, I have a car." By this time, Sam was already pulling me through the exit of the cafeteria.

"Same difference!" I heard him yell, his voice echoing in my head as we entered the empty hallway.

I turned expectantly to Sam. "So…?"

"I know how you feel about Patrick" she blurted out quickly.

A million questions entered my head. Was I really that obvious? Sure I gave him a quick fleeting look once or twice a day, but surely it wasn't noticeable.

But it begged the question, if Sam knew, they did the culprit himself know? I couldn't bear that.

It was around this time that I realised that I hadn't in fact answered Sam.

"What gave you that impression?"

"Oh c'mon Mary. You look as if you want to rip his clothes off sometimes."

I was shocked. I wasn't aware that I gave off that sort of vibe –granted there had been a few rare times that I had in fact wanted to do just as she had said, but like I said; it wasn't noticeable. … Was it? - I simply just lived my life, like a normal teenage girl who happens to want a guy she will never be able to have due to his preference in penis.

"I do not."

"Yes, you do. It's blatantly obvious, the only person who can't see it, is Patrick."

I exhaled in relief.

"You mean he doesn't know?"

"So you admit it?" A smirk played on her lips.

"Not a word. Ever." I pointed my finger directly between her eyes so as to imply some sort of death threat.

"I could help you, you know, find someone else – take your mind off him." She smiled genuinely this time. I knew she meant well, but let's face it- if I wasn't able to take my mind off him for nine years, I doubt I would be able to in any number of weeks.

"Thanks, but its fine. I'm happy with things as they are."

I could be such a liar sometimes.

"Well OK, if you're sure"

"I am, perfectly. Thanks."

She gazed worriedly at me before huffing slightly as she turned to enter through the doors which lead back to the cafeteria. I was then left alone in the hall.

I sighed. A slow, lengthy sigh. I was safe. For now, Patrick was oblivious.

God, being female never sucked so bad.