Growing up in the countryside, he was the first new kid moving in so close to my home. Before him, we had been three girls. I didn’t mind being alone most of the time. But somehow having a new friend – and this friend being a boy, was so thrilling to me.

He lived with his older brother and mother in one of the smaller houses at the end of our street. Their house had a tiny garden with only one tree, but the field in front of it somehow made the property bigger. Before them, an old lady lived there. He told me that when they went to see it, she had left a poop in the toilet. I thought that was funny and scary at the same time. I must have been around 10 years old.

I would walk all the way down to their house and hide in the tall weed grass. I don’t remember ever seeing him from my hiding place. But I liked the feeling of being close to him. He had blond hair and the sun made his skin darker that mine. He was fast. Sometimes we would both lay down in the middle of the field after running. At that time I didn’t know that the most basic form of romantic interaction is doing just that. We were never there for too long. He was always moving. I wished he would stop sometimes, so I could look into his eyes. And then again, I would be terrified if he did.

That summer we both attended a cake competition at our villages summer party. There must have been at least 20 cakes. Mine was round with candy on top of the wiped cream. His was a square covered with green icing, a somehow clumsy football field. I gave him my vote. None of us won. But somehow it still felt as if we had a project together.

The strange thing is that I really can’t recall if they lived in that house for more than a year. It seemed so brief. After the summer party I tried calling him a few times. His older brother would answer, and when I asked for him, he told me that he was sick. He had a headache. That happened twice.  Then I stopped trying.

At that age there is not a whole lot of difference between friendship, fascination, falling in love and just being curious. I don’t think that my own sexuality had taken any real steps at that time. But I can still recall the strong psychical pull towards him. And I guess he felt that too – which must have scared him off. Nothing is scarier than pure love coming to get you in that age.