Of feeling like everyone else in the world is out there smiling, beaming, enjoying their lives.
While I continue to sit here, stewing in my misery. In my loneliness.
It just feels like there is no one on this earth that understands what or who I am. But the worst part is that the person who should be attempting to answer those questions is becoming increasingly apathetic. That person is me.
My present plight no longer stems from denying the fact that I am a woman who fell in love with another woman. I did, fall madly in love with somebody whom I never expected to have those feelings for. The feelings grew over the course of a very beautiful, intense and deeply intimate friendship that challenged many of the traditional boundaries of friendships that I have encountered throughout my life. There were so many commonalities between us, so many shared dreams and realities. I wasn't aware of my feelings toward her, until one drunken night when she blurred the boundaries even further by confessing that she wanted to sleep with me. That she wanted to take me into the ladies room and kiss every corner of my body. She confessed that she might be falling in love with me, but that she was terrified of letting any differences that might arise between us tear us apart. She told me that she was afraid of what her family would think if she ventured on pursuing a relationship with a woman. She passed out at the bar and then woke up two hours later only to call some guy who she'd been flirting with earlier that night, and then met up with him to have a one night stand.
The days and months following that incident took me on the most incredible roller coaster of emotions that I have ever felt in my life. I was hurt, and didn't understand why. I confronted her about the incident (she claimed not to remember that it happened) and we decided that it was best to establish marked boundaries for our friendship. But given the fact that we both were aware that we had feelings for each other, those boundaries continued to be ignored. She continued to sleep with men and parade them in front of me, and I was extremely jealous and began to resent her because I believed that she was acting as if everything she said to me wasn't a big deal. I confronted her again, but this time we agreed that we both needed a clean break and that we would not see or speak to each other for a while in order to give us a chance to start fresh. We couldn't stay away from each other, and I told her that I had no desire to be her friend if she continued to disrespect my needs for clear definition of our relationship: were we just friends, did she want to be my lover, or was she satisfied with the limbo that was breaking my heart to pieces? She said that she wanted to give us a try.
And so we dated, for the most amazing few days of my life until she became very cold and distant. She would not answer my calls, she cancelled dates last minute (through text!), and she used ridiculous excuses not to see me or talk to me. I swallowed the pain that her indifference was causing me because I was afraid of pushing her further away. But as the pain became unbearable, I was forced to end it. I cut all ties with her immediately. But then I fell apart.
And thus I am here, several months later, still bleeding the blood of unrequited love. But even worse, I am left struggling to make sense of who I am and where I fit into this world. Prior to this experience, I had never had deep feelings for anybody. I am 23, a virgin, and have never been in a relationship. I had gone on dates with a couple of boys, but I had never (and still don't) have sexual feelings toward them. I never had sexual feelings or experiences for/with anybody, and I still don't (not women, nor men).
So is this a matter of my questioning my sexuality, if I am almost completely convinced that it doesn't exist? I have a burning desire to be emotionally intimate and intellectually connected to other human beings (gender is not a discriminant factor for me), but, although I am curious about sex, I have little desire to connect with people physically. Most people who I talk to about this keep telling me that I'll figure it out, that I'm probably just bisexual. My lesbian friends say that I'm probably just a lesbian, and that I'm just experiencing "coming out" pangs. But since bisexuals and lesbians experience sexual desire, I'm not sure whether or not I fit into either group.
And coming into this realization has made me feel incredibly alone.