Ok hello everybody! I'm resurfacing again after about six or seven months. It's 3am and boy do I have a lot to say. It's amazing what a year can do to you. For those of you who have no idea who I am my name's Victoria, I'm 14, and I'm a lesbian. Hope that helps. I can't even remember the last time I sat down to write. Maybe it's just a way of avoiding sleep, but I haven't been sleeping much so I figured what the hell right? So many thoughts have been going through my head lately. I look back and remember when I first figured out that I was a lesbian I had this young fire inside. I wanted to go out and hug the world and then slowly but surely heal all of it's wounds. I feel so far from that now. I feel like I lost all passion and I hate it. How did I get here? Yes I figured out my sexual preference at an early age, maybe it will change, maybe it won't, but I know what I am at the present and that's all I really care about.
A year has done so much to me. In one fifty-two week cycle my peaceful, clueless childhood was steadily stripped from me layer by layer. After finally admitting to myself what I had known all along things appeared easy. In the space of a year I came out to all of my friends. It was great, most were supportive, the others aren't worth mentioning. I was happy. Then again how is possible to have everything perfect at such a young age? It's not. I think now if I had analyzed this would I have seen it coming? I did something then I had no intention of doing, something which consumed my life for the next two years and probably forever. It started with a phone call to a friend. We met through her. Talked on the phone for an hour, she was great. After about two months we came out to each other. Just a friend, I said to myself, being subconsciously cautious (even my own mind knew what was coming) She told me right after that, she liked me. And I said 'no. you're great. I don't like you in that way though.' She would sigh and say 'I know,' and tell me her stories. Look at us then and you would laugh. Why the hell were we friends? Me, a little girl who just figured out she was a lesbian, who had seen nothing beyond the barriers of a secure world. Her, a pot baby. Brought to be by the powers of alcoholic beverage and a shitty condom.
What life did she know? Innocence had left her years ago, back at the party she decided to go to with her older cousin. Beer and pot was a given. Only one questionable thing left to fit in. Didn't even know his name, but the man kind enough to accompany her to bed was only the beginning of the fireworks. Will make is short and call her a party girl. And what she would see in me I couldn't tell you. Was I an innocent past she longed to reclaim? I suppose she was guilty for picking me as her savior, and forgetting to inform me. I think even she, with all her worldly experience, didn't see it coming.
So time wore me down. It was only a little while before I had to acknowledge the fact that I cared for her. I knew a very long time before I had told her. But then again the last desperate try from my subconscious at retaining painless innocence didn't hold. I told her. She was happy. She asked if it was ok if she saw someone else, I felt a twinge but kept my mouth shut, of course it is, I said. I didn't want to be different from any of the other relationships she'd had. That's when it started. It was a quiet thing at first, just little pricks, and I would laugh, another 'of course' and things would be fine. And here I was, this little girl, who had always pretended things were ok, because they had been, completely defenseless to the pain that consumed me. I stayed silent, saying to myself 'love is sacrifice' right? Isn't that the way it is in the movies?'
After taking myself through a years worth of being emotionally battered I broke silence. More like the breakdown ended my silence. I couldn't do it anymore, I told her everything, how much it hurt me, how I hated even thinking of her with other people, that I loved her. We had said it so many times before but it slipped through like water, it was nothing. This was something and she knew it. Things didn't go well. Neither of us was ready to deal. But for the first time in the entirety of our being together she realized that she had also done this thing, this stupid thing, fallen in love. By then it didn't do one bit of good. I had to leave, it hurt me too much.
The problem was that the world hadn't stopped during our little romance. It kept right on going while I steadily lagged behind, further and further and further from the place I had begun. My grades dropped, I had been crying myself to sleep, weekends were more a nightmare then a blessing. What had been our holy days, together, lusting, completely ignoring the relationship that was crumbling to pieces along with my mental stability. To shorten the story I was completely depressed and sickened with the world. What was this pain I felt? This was not life, it was hell. Getting away helped a little, but still I was permanently damaged. I saw the world with tear stains.
Things were not going well. I had come out to my mother and was struggling with her denial during all this too. I couldn't talk to her about it. I had no one to talk to, no guidance. I was left on my own, in the cage with the lion.
After spending three months recovering from my emotional low I had to deal with this new outlook: I was bitter. Love or whatever it was had changed me completely. My friends even said they noticed a change. I had been uplifting they said, standing tall. Now I dragged my legs down the school hallways waiting for the day to end. I had lost my fire. And ever since, I have been emotionally unreachable. Not saying I don't like people, not saying I don't care, but I am locked up, and most likely will be for a long, long time. Anyone who is daring enough to take on a relationship with me is going to get hurt, I know it, and it depresses me more. I have happy days, I am enthusiastic as I can be, but those are good days. Everything else is my suffering, with a smile on my face. The same smile that hid my pain from her, hides my depression from the rest of the world. And this is where I am.
Looking back from where I was, I have never longed for youth so much. I just want my flame back, I want my fire.
Questions or comments you can reach me at Cyrano89@aol.com
thanks for listening