Last week it was Valentines Day.
I celebrated my one-month anniversary with my boyfriend.
But the night before, when I was out getting chocolates. For him, and markers to make his card, I made my mum buy an extra box of chocolates and some carnations. Why? Because exactly one month before, my best friend confessed her love for me, and I received my first lesbian love letter. She told me how I was the only one she saw. And how I gave her butterflies. I mean, I don't feel exactly like that, but I do know I have feelings for her. I really do. If I didn't, I wouldn't have left the lunch table that day to hunt down the girl who threatened her. And when she asked me, I told her I loved her. But. I didn't say it how I really mean it. I was infuriated when that other girl sat between us instead of her normal spot at the other side of the table. I've defended her so many times. She makes me so happy. She wears her hair up a lot, and when she wears it down, she's the most beautiful girl in the world. She makes me so happy. She really does. And when she does that cute little giggle into the palm of her hand. I've written a response to her letter so many times before, but... I crumble it up and throw it away.
I don't talk about my sexuality, and in fact I hate that word. I hate the labels that accompany it. I just love the person. Gender doesn't matter to me. I'm in love with a girl. And I'm in love with a boy. And I know she hates when I speak about him, but I've only told one other girl about my pansexuality. She's one of my best friends. And I've had a terrible history. I should write a book, and I mean it's not what how those girls "have had" it's 100% true and even the most disgusting criminal could think of. I almost came out to my Grandma after New Years. I was so ready to. I was crying because my dad had yelled at me and embarrassed me. And my uncles ex partner made a comment how only lesbians wear sports bra, my bra of choice. He said that I'm gonna end up as a gym teacher, I laughed it. Off and Smiled.
I was crying, bawling because my sexuality was more important at that time. My grandma asked me if there was something else. There had to be something else that I was upset about. I had my iPad in my hands. It took everything in me to stop myself from typing, 'Im Gay.' she would accept me. I know. She would. I love her. So, so, so much. They're so good to me. And I still battle myself on who I am. If I am a boy, or a girl. At heart. Who/what do I love? I can't handle it really, it sucks.
So back to Valentines Day.
On my way to second period, I made my way down the English Hall. She was sitting in her seat, taking out the essential items from her purse. I walked in, smiled and handed her the chocolates and flowers. She blushed and said 'Aww.' and it was an amazing decision. I wish I could have gotten a hug, or I my wildest dreams a peck, but that would never happen. She's so adorably shy about it. She would never try. (:
So, my boyfriend. I love him so much. He's so nice to me, and so honest. The other night, he said that he thought I was perfect. I told him he was lying. He said, you're beautiful. And I said, everyone is. And he goes, fine, I'm. Just a horny teenage boy wanting to fuck you. And I can't be mad at his honesty. It's true though, but I know for a fact that he thinks I'm beautiful. And. In his words, to achieve society's perfection, I should work on my ass and near visible abs. But I'm perfect in his eyes, and my eyes.
And she's perfect in my eyes.
Yet, he's got his flaws.
She's beautiful in every way.
And so many times, have I made scenarios how I'd sing to her like on glee. Our favorite show. I want to confess my love for her, through song. She makes me happy. And for once, I don't feel weird typing it. In fact, I'm smiling just thinking about her. She's... She's my everything and she doesn't know it. And I hope I'm hers.
I love you.