A Love Song I Never Expected: The Story of Lauren and Me

Life has a funny way of throwing surprises your way, especially when you least expect them. There I was, a carefree 19-year-old, blissfully unaware that someone I considered a friend had been harboring feelings for me for years - and not just any feelings - deep, romantic ones that eventually turned into a song. Yes, you read that right, a love song. And it was about me. But let me take you back to where it all began, so you can decide for yourself whether I should be angry, sad, flattered, or just… confused.

It started in year 9 at our all-girls school. That's where I met Lauren. She seemed nice enough. We got paired together for a couple of projects - nothing major - but we clicked. As the years passed, we moved through school without becoming particularly close until our final year, year 12. That's when things started to change.

I had always been a bit of a social butterfly, flitting between different friend groups, connecting with people easily, while Lauren was quieter, more grounded. It wasn't until the last year of high school that we began spending more time together. We ended up at the same parties, crossed paths at events, and she always laughed at my jokes. You know that one person who makes you feel like everything you say is just gold? That was Lauren for me. I thought it was a good friendship vibe, nothing more.

But looking back, maybe that was the first sign. She was always there, always paying attention, and her laughter? Well, maybe it wasn't just about the jokes.

We worked together on school events - she was school captain, after all - and somehow, by the end of the year, we were sharing more moments. I invited her to my 18th birthday party, and she brought me flowers. Sweet, right? We danced, laughed, and had a great time, but she left early. Again, I thought nothing of it.

Then came "schoolies," that wild week in Australia where you leave behind the stresses of high school and just… live. I went with my friends to a popular beach town, ready for sun, fun, and, well, a bit of freedom. It just so happened that Lauren's family had a beach house in the same town, so of course, she was there with her friends. It felt like fate was working overtime to bring us together.

On the last day before Lauren and her friends were set to leave, we ended up singing songs on the jetty, just like a scene from a teen movie - drunk teenagers, the sea breeze, and the night sky overhead. When it was time for her to leave, I said goodbye and wished her luck at university, which was in another state. I thought that was the end of it. A nice send-off to a school friendship.

But then… one of her friends approached me. "Can I tell you something?" she asked, eyes shifting nervously. I wasn't prepared for what she said next.

"Lauren's had a crush on you for over three years," she blurted out.

I think time stopped for a second. Three years? How did I not see it? Everyone else apparently did. My friends, upon hearing the news, basically said, "Oh yeah, that was obvious." Obvious? How? I had never picked up on a single sign.

But here's the kicker. While Lauren was lovely, there was a major issue: I'm straight.

Standing there, I had no idea how to react. My mind raced. Should I be flattered? Sympathetic? Guilty? I didn't want to hurt her, but I couldn't lie either. I explained to her friend that I admired Lauren as a friend, but I simply didn't feel the same way about girls. I thought that would be the end of it, and life would move on. Boy, was I wrong.

Over the next year, Lauren and I drifted apart. My attempts to message her were met with dry, one-word responses. She left me on read more times than I could count. It hurt because, to me, it wasn't just about the crush. I missed the friendship we had built, but I knew it was probably harder for her to maintain any kind of relationship with me after everything. So I let her be.

Meanwhile, I noticed she started posting more singing videos on TikTok. She had a nice voice, so I thought nothing of it. Until… one particular song caught my attention. The lyrics were eerily specific - strawberry blonde hair (hello, my hair is red), hanging out by a fire (yep, that party memory was burned into my mind too), and a line about "when you said you liked that guy." Now, I'm not a detective, but this was hitting a little too close to home.

Still, I brushed it off. Maybe it was a coincidence. Maybe I was overthinking it. After all, it had been a year since the whole confession thing, and she was off living her best life at university. It couldn't possibly be about me… right?

Fast forward another year. Lauren started a new Instagram account dedicated to her music. I didn't follow it, partly because I wasn't sure if I should, and partly because, well, life goes on. But then one day, I received a message from a mutual friend.

"Have you seen Lauren's new song?" they asked.

I hadn't. But when I checked it out, my jaw hit the floor. The song I had suspected was about me? Yeah, it definitely was. My name was right there, bold as day, in the title.

The lyrics painted a picture of someone who had been tossed aside, someone heartbroken and betrayed. And to top it all off, there was a not-so-subtle hint that maybe, just maybe, I wasn't being honest about my own feelings - or even my sexual orientation. According to this song, I had some "hidden truth" to face.

Now, listen, I get it. Music is a way to express yourself, to process emotions. But did she have to do it publicly? With my name in the title? Our high school friends followed her music account, and suddenly I had this sinking feeling that people would think I was hiding something about myself, something that just wasn't true. Sure, I'd had my moments of questioning, but I knew I was straight.

It stung. Not because she had feelings for me - that was never the problem. But because instead of talking to me, instead of keeping it private, she turned it into a public display. And now I was the lead character in a story I never asked to be part of.

So here I am, sharing this with all of you. Am I wrong to feel upset? Should I just let it go? Or do I have every right to feel like my personal life was used as lyrical fodder without my consent?

You tell me.