After freaking out with a mania that borders on hysteria actively questioning my sexuality since the age of five, I reached a decision:
I am a Fucklabelsilovewhoeveriwantian.
And if “whoever I want” happens to be “women” 99.99999% of the time–
Lesbian? What lesbian?
Speaking of which, crushes are like Gremlins. They start off small, cute, fuzzy, and completely harmless. This summer my friend Monica,* like most teenage girls in eighty degree weather, wore a tanktop. It clung to her flat stomach and gorgeous chest and I thought “Hot, I wish I could get my body to look like that.” See that? Small. Harmless. Self-centered. If I wasn’t busy freaking out over my sexual orientation I probably wouldn’t have noticed it.
Then the Gremlins start talking to you and you are forced to acknowledge their existence. All my wonderful platonic conversations with Monica were getting interrupted by this annoying voice in my head that went “prettyprettyprettyprettysmartniceprettymmm”. It just wouldn’t shut up. ”Oh, you silly gay girl you.” I said to myself. “You have a straight girl crush. Get over it, now, for she is in a relationship with a man and wants no part of your wonderful woman love.”
Warm, furry little feelings. That’s how crushes are. At first. They may even stay that way and, if you’re lucky, disappear from whence they came. But most of the time they get fed after midnight and transform from warm, fuzzy feelings into a raging monster in your head going “OM NOM NOM WAAAAANNTTTT.”
Monica pinned me against a wall this Halloween. ”Hit on the Lesbian for Attention” is a favorite game of most of my female friends. The rules are simple: boldly flirt with the Les and say “Just kidding” or laugh when you’re done to make it Straight and Funny. Bonus points if you initiate some kind of physical contact. Guys have to notice for you to win. I pretend to be annoyed by this for the principle of it all, but honestly I can only get so angry when pretty girls start run their fingers through my hair, whatever their motivations. When Monica tried it?
This may or may not be a sexual innuendo!
And that is how it’s been pretty much EVERY TIME SHE TALKS TO ME since then. Which is every day at school and most days outside of school. For months. The Gremlin of a crush has grown to disastrous proportions! I have fought it valiantly, but to no avail.
We are both in our highschool drama club. This weekend the entire club will be taking an overnight trip to a theater festival. She will be in my hotel room. And my bed.
I had a wee bit of trouble focusing today.
*If you think her name is actually Monica you are more gullible than I am.
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