We couldn’t stop staring at each other for 2 years. From across the counter, his blue eyes met mine every time I walked into the cafe. I learned his schedule, practiced my coffee order, and wished, wished so hard, he’d say hello.
I kept coming back. His cafe was down the block from my high school. I’d sit there, study, and lose myself in distraction. This was before my first kiss - I didn’t trust my own feelings about chemistry yet. Was I imagining his blue eyes piercing mine? But I couldn’t be, he kept looking my way.
Before graduating, I left a note for him. Thank goodness he wasn’t there when I dropped it off. I would have died of embarrassment. I wrote a few words and asked his colleague to leave it in his locker - we’ve been looking at each other for a while and I’m moving out of town, would you want to meet?
I moved on. Finished high school. Met different guys. I kept wondering where he went, was I wrong? I was partially religious back then, so I put a lot of faith in God. He wasn’t Jewish, so maybe this was how things were meant to play out? I wasn’t allowed to be with a non-Jew?
2 months later, I got a message. He texted me, said he broke up with his girlfriend because she was gay. He might be gay himself, he mentioned. So even if he was free now, I couldn’t have him. Oh well, what did I know about fate, love and destiny?
Apparently, nothing, because a few months later we met in real life and shared a few hours together. He kissed me. I guess he wasn’t that gay.
I don’t know how to proceed with the next part of the story without sounding insensitive. There are so many nuances in the community I don’t have a part in - I’ll do my best to focus on my observations and feelings of the events.
After we met, I wrote a letter about him. I wrote how the connection we felt was different than love, there had to be another word. Hayeesha, I decided. Hayeesha was the feeling we felt with each other. I sent the letter and moved to Israel. He became a beautiful story from the past.
But we kept in touch a bit. I learned most of the following events through her Facebook posts. Not long after our kiss, she started to transition and become a woman. She changed her name, and asked everyone to call her something else. I was fascinated, did the person I used to feel hayeesha for disappear?
I kept stalking; reread her posts obsessively. Who was the person I crushed on? She got surgery; her face changed. She started posting heavily feminine stuff - like getting her nails done that weekend and best friends who betrayed her. Sometimes, I almost unfollowed her. That’s not what girls are like, I wanted to scream. Why are you trying so hard?
I only figured later that she was trying to fit into her own skin. When we first met, she was a different person. Same, but different. The story evolving on Facebook was another part of her. I may have not completely understood it, but the person I felt hayeesha for was in there. If I looked differently at the experience of watching her transform, I can see it showed me how people change, how people evolve, how we become who we will be tomorrow and then the day after that.
We briefly spoke about a year ago. I didn’t feel anything, I didn’t feel the connection we used to have. It didn’t hurt though - I thought that maybe, this is exactly what hayeesha represents: A strong, brief love that lives only in the past
In graduate school I also knew someone who transitioned over the course of the year. They presented as a man for the first nine months. In the last month, she started applying makeup, her skin was glossier, her nails were different, and her hair was permed. Before the final, she gave me her notes and I asked if there was anything I could do to repay her. She (still presenting as a man, going by their now dead name) said, "What I would like most is if you would please start calling me <new, traditionally feminine name> and using female pronouns." I said sure, of course. I had never received a a request like that.
The first person who ever said they liked me was a girl in the fifth grade. She asked me to go to a school dance and I said no. She was a lovely person. I found out that a few years ago that they transitioned. Now he has a wife and a beautiful child. We've messaged a few times about random things. I'm happy for him. Remembering what the person I knew from graduate school said, I simply tried my best to treat them as they presented and use the words that they needed. I can't imagine the soul searching and turmoil that precedes the decision to transition.
Here's what I got when I googled Hayeesha:
"The meaning of the given name Hayeesha represents idealism, intuition, romance, generosity, creativity, wisdom and tolerance."
I think that fits well with your story.