So today, I went to talk to F in the locker room. We hung out. Things were okay. Honestly, I think she’s into me because she’s totally flirting back STILL but she’s afraid to be with me. Whatever. But while we were kind of hanging out she asked me, “…so did something happen to you to make you gay?” And I almost couldn’t believe my ears. I popped.
“What?! You don’t ask people that!” She is now hesitant and awkward as if I just told her I eat infant souls for fun. “No. Nothing happened to me, and that’s not how it works.” She then went on to explain how her aunt got raped or something and is now gay. It is taking everything in me not to break it to her… (Homosexuality is not a side effect. LOL.) I already have what I’m gonna say planned out. I’ll be all like “so what happened to make you straight?” And she’ll be all like “huh?” And I’ll be all like, “Damn right. What now?!”
Speaking of ignorance, my sister got into a fight with me the other day about coming out to my Dad. She explained, “he deserves to know. He’s your family.” And as a teenager with angst and hatred for the world, I argued.
- I don’t have to come out to ANYBODY. Because liking girls is a part of who I am. Should I also tell my Dad that I have brown eyes? Should I tell him that I wear 7 1/2 shoe size too? Of course not. Because those things don’t matter.
- If I have a girlfriend, then I have no problem mentioning her. I have nothing to hide. But as soon as it happens I will not use it as an opportunity to “come out.”
- I refuse to use the phrase “come out” because it creates a closet that I refuse to be apart of in the first place. The heteronormative society we live in created this “closet” as a way to label us as different as soon as we decide to tell people.
- We have to tell people in the first place (as if we are breaking news) because we are taught to believe we are abnormal. Which is correct right now. But I’m working on it. Don’t worry, gang.
- I really like F. I know this has nothing to do with my reasons for why I am defiant to Hereronormative society, I just think it’s important and my choice based on what I wanna write about. So deal with it. She’s soooo beautiful. And her eyes. Omg. Her eyes. And her scent makes my heart curl. And I just want to run my fingers through her hair. Don’t even get me started with her body… (Let me stop)
I’m sinking further and further for her and there’s no where to go. I can’t be friends with her because my family knows I like her and thinks I’ll make a move (let’s face it I will). And her homophobic parents would have to meet my lesbian parents. What time is it. I should write her a nite about this.
Ugh 12:53 am on a school night… It’s happening…