When I said I loved her, I didn't mean it as anything more than friends. It was friendship love, or philia, as it was known in Greek. Abigail was one of those friends that I would die for, to be honest, she was my only friend.
I couldn't stand to be around most people for any length of time. I was antisocial by nature, and found the presence of other human beings to be annoying and unnecessary. Abigail felt the same way, possibly more so, and so we tended to get along, neither pushing the other past a reasonable limit.
All the reasoning worked out, as long as I was straight.
Maybe I was, maybe I wasn't. Lately things had been getting weird.
It all started when Abigail and I had been at a school dance. She was dancing with some acquaintances of ours that fancied themselves our "friends." Over the course of several minutes, I found myself distracted by the way she danced.
Abigail smiled and swayed back and forth, not caring that people gave her weird looks. Our "friends" laughed and giggled at her eccentric form of dance, but my only desire was to dance with her, my body grinding against hers in the heat of the dance.
I began noticing things about her too, like the size of her waist and the way her neck looked from the side. I don't think Abigail ever noticed my peculiar evaluations of her, but I couldn't be sure since she never let on more than she needed to.
No one ever questioned the fact that I never dated guys. They always said, "Well it's Nell, she's not the prettiest girl around." In a way, they were right. No guys ever had a crush on me, no guys ever asked me out, and that was fine since I found them all to be insensitive pigs anyway.
Even when it came to girls, I found relationships to be silly and worthless. I viewed the word "love" to be an overused cliche with no meaning. How can you date someone for two days and tell them you love them? One simply can't.
Love isn't an overnight train to a honeymoon suite, that's divorce.
I viewed love a commitment with meaning. If you weren't willing to die for the other person, what you were feeling wasn't love.
Love isn't the number of times you kiss someone while the lights are down.
Love is a feeling.
Love is loyalty.
Love is the utmost honor, respect, and trust you can give to someone else.
Quite clearly, my views differed from those of the teenage population that I dealt with. No one understood me, and I didn't understand them.