It used to be so clear. Life revolved around her. We grew up with a tightly knit bond, our families woven together in an intimate friendship. I learned everything about her as I grew into a man, exploring her intricacies and idiosyncrasies with fascination turning into love. While I misunderstood her often, she forgave and was a patient teacher. I studied her every move like an attentive toddler learning how the world worked, trusting completely. I visited every Sunday and often throughout the week when I had the chance. I felt alive when I pulled up to her home, and disappointed when the time came to say goodbye. She was strange to people who didn’t know her. They didn’t understand us, so judgmental comments about our oddities didn’t threaten me. I was secure in what we had. In fact, I tried to show them she wasn’t who they imagined her…