Penelope had always accepted who she was. She was fun and bubbly and so so social, she never tried to hide her true self from anyone. That included who she loved.

As soon as she saw you, she knew. As soon as she asked you out and you said yes, she was certain.

She thought this would be the "greatest, most perfect, funnest, best" relationship ever, in her words.

She didn't know you were crazy scared to come out. She didn't know you were practically embarrassed to admit you were in love with another girl.

So she was confused when you said you weren't ready for a relationship.

And no, Penelope didn't blame you, didn't feel sad you were embarrassed. She knew it wasn't shame of her, but of your sexuality as a whole. Because she loved you. She would do anything you asked her to.

So, every day she told you little things, like how she loved you with your hair down, like how she just wanted to drive around with you.

Until one day, in the literal middle of the night, you woke up to frantic knocking on your door. Penelope, in her hot pink pajamas, still with her slippers on. She had drove just to tell you:

".. I think we could do it if we tried." She started. "Hear me out! Please! Just.. I think we can! I know you're, like, scared to admit it, but oh my god I think I'm inlove with you." She said, her voice fading into a whisper.

"You can fight, but I'll be here till the end of the time wishing you were mine." She continued. "I know there's things that could get in the way but.. I don't wanna say goodbye. We don't have to feel like a crime!"