I was thirteen.
At this age, kids are out there learning how to preserve the earth and read their way into becoming top-notch neurosurgeons, but not the 13y/o that was me. I had learnt that there was more to the bees and bird’s story. My whole purpose on earth became the undaunted task of unraveling this mystery and wonderment and I found it from these two girls in high school.
One of them was my best friend whom I had a crush on since day one of my high school life. She was a knock-out. In fact, God had hired her during his last day of creation and he was like, you know what? thy shall possess all the remaining beauty of this creation, because you are sweet as pie, and I am God, I am allowed to do such stuff.
Being the romantic midget that I am, there was no way on earth I was going to confess to her that I could be her kindred spirit plus other benefits too.
Stories have been told about lesbians in high school facing the wrath of expulsion; these become painful memories that follow you for the rest of your life. There are depressing things in a lesbian’s in life which eventually fades away with time, enough determination and maybe expensive therapists. ‘Lesbian behavior’ expulsions is not one of them, they are in a class of their own, no amount of alcohol you pour on them will make these memories go away- – you can blow away the entirety of your income hiring ‘em therapists but eventually, you will meet that bitch from high school on the streets who will oust your ass all over again. Really, high school for you will never end.
These tales made me shudder in fear. Girls were to be watched from a far and no amount of lesbian fantasies would make me touch one. Figuratively speaking, ye perverts of the world.
I should have stuck with this mission and direct my teenage energy into solving complex algorithms but no, this was adrenaline rush for pete’s sake.
During my second term in my second year of high school, all my lesbian alarm bells went off. Lust, wet dreams and other words of the same family came running after me day and night at disconcerting speeds.
You see, I saw the two girls kiss on my way to the dormitory from my night preps. I became unstoppable; oh mercy, I was in deep. I used to have these heart shaped sheets which I preserved to write for my first true love and now the moment was here, and writing I did. Fancy drawings and heavy Oxford dictionary words were used. I finally stamped it with my signature fragrance, smeared my lips with lipstick and sealed it with a kiss.
The letter made her spine turn to gel.
I think I had a way with words back then, as compared to the present where I have to hit on a woman with 140 freaking characters. The feeling was mutual she said: she had always liked me but somehow figured I was not ‘like that’.
The nagging issue was how I was going to dip my toes into the issue that was her current girlfriend. We had to start somewhere, but attempting to enter the world of threesomes was a dicey dive, besides, I never wanted to share her with anyone. Teenage love. We decided to play it cool, I don’t even know what that meant but it was like stealing sugar from the sugar jar and leaving some on your cheeks kind of setting, so she found out eventually.
Nothing says you are all fucked up better than an estranged jealous fourteen year old. I will call her Beth (second time I am using this name here). By the way, I am in no way affiliated or bitter with chics called Beth, it’s just the name that comes to mind every time I am doing a post. But was i in her shoes, I would have acted the same way maybe so I don’t blame her now.
Beth went ballistic. She started blackmailing me by writing me hate letters and such, but the capper of it all was when she broke into my school locker and found a picture I had taken with Sheryl (yes even her name was a total knockout) in a not so Godly pose. She threatened to take it to the Deputy Principal. I don’t know about Deputy Principals from other schools but the one we had in high school will have her own bunk bed in hell. That woman would literally beat the daylights out of you if she even dreamt that somehow you were about to commit a wrong.
I had to save my ass quick and fast. So in return I asked Sheryl to gather all the notes Beth had written to her and give them to me. She was in love with me too and was willing to do anything to save me now that Beth was entirely and specifically targeting the co-wife, me. I copied all them in my own handwriting (I couldn’t risk giving her the originals since they were my only exhibit) and passed all of them to her and on the envelope, I wrote, sounds familiar? That did it, it gagged her completely.
But during Beth’s brouhahas trying to name and shame me, a few girls had gotten wind of our secret (between Sheryl and I) that there might be a thing going on worth of their discovery. That meant that to prove them wrong, we had to cut all ties. It’s an ordeal I would rather not revive, spending each day with Sheryl like she was a complete stranger, craving for her touch; I had even imagined marrying her.
It is like your fashionista friend telling you that your favorite pink pants look so terrible on your butt. Now all you can do is hang the goddamn pants in your closet and look at them every day and sob your brains out.
Oh, the love story is over.