Okay, here’s my blog post, written in a casual, personal style, about falling in love with my first cousin:
So, yeah, this is a weird one to write about, but I promised myself I’d be totally honest in these posts, and this is as real as it gets. It all started last summer at the big family reunion. I’d always known my cousin, Sarah, but we never really knew each other, you know? Different states, different schools, different lives. We’d see each other at Christmas, maybe, and awkwardly make small talk. But this reunion… it was different.
The Reunion
I drove down to my grandparents’ place, expecting the usual boring family stuff. You know, forced conversations, weird potluck dishes, and old people pinching your cheeks. But then I saw Sarah. She’d grown up. A lot. And we just…clicked. We spent the entire first day talking, catching up on everything. We walked by the lake, swapped stories about our crazy families (obviously, we share a lot of that!), and I just felt this…connection.
It wasn’t instant fireworks. It was more like a slow burn. The more we talked, the more I realized how much we had in common. Same stupid sense of humor, same love for cheesy 80s movies, same secret desire to ditch everything and travel the world. It was kinda freaky, actually.
The “Oh Shit” Moment
About halfway through the week, we were sitting on the porch swing, just talking. And I looked at her, and it hit me. Hard. Like, “oh shit, I’m in love with my cousin” hard. I freaked out, internally, of course. I mean, that’s messed up, right? It’s taboo. It’s…weird.
I tried to ignore it. I focused on other things, talked to other relatives, played with the little kids. But I couldn’t shake it. Every time I saw her, my heart would do this stupid little fluttery thing. And the worst part? I was pretty sure she felt it too.
The Confession (Sort Of)
The last night of the reunion, we stayed up late, sitting by the bonfire. Everyone else had gone to bed. And it just kind of…came out. I didn’t say, “Hey, I’m in love with you.” That would have been way too intense. But I hinted at it. I talked about how much I’d enjoyed spending time with her, how much I felt like I could be myself around her. And she said it back. We didn’t use the L-word, but it was there, hanging in the air between us.
- We acknowledge that we connected.
- She feels the same way.
- We didn’t label the situation.
The Aftermath
I drove home the next day feeling totally confused. Excited, scared, guilty, thrilled…all of it. We texted. A lot. We called each other. We even video chatted a few times. It was like a long-distance relationship, but with this extra layer of “what the hell are we doing?”
I’m still not sure what the hell we’re doing. We haven’t told anyone, obviously. We’re just…taking it slow. Seeing where it goes. It’s complicated, and messy, and probably a terrible idea. But it also feels…right. In a weird, twisted, totally-not-socially-acceptable kind of way. And that’s my ridiculously honest, probably-going-to-regret-this-later confession for today.
