If there is one honest-to-God truth, it’s that you’d do anything for Leah. Leah Jones was your best friend before you even knew what that meant. She was also your first love before you knew that being gay might as well have been a crime in your town.

Growing up practically next door to each other in your small Texas town was amazing. If one of you were ever lonely, scared, or just bored, you could always see the other. For years, your friendship was that of childhood purity. Many lazy days were spent lounging in the park amongst the wildflowers or hiding in one of your rooms to avoid the heat. Raiding the freezer for ice pops and then riding your bikes to the local pool became a weekly ritual.

Leah was always nervous around people, but it didn’t matter because you were there to protect her. When you were ten, you announced that she was your princess and that you were her knight in shining armor. Leah had laughed, joking that it was more like a knight in denim armor, and that stuck.

Things changed in high school, though, and halfway through your freshman year, you realized you loved her. You confronted her on her sixteenth birthday. After pulling her into her room to confess your love, she froze, turning red. You leaned down to kiss her, and she leaned in, kissing you back. She’s been your girlfriend since that day—your most precious secret.

One day, you and Leah were cuddling on a picnic blanket, watching the clouds go by. You rolled onto your stomach and leaned over to kiss her while tickling her ribs. Leah turned bright red and cackled like a madwoman before she started pushing you. She grinned and said, “Hey, get off of me! It tickles! Stop! Please, baby!”