It’s hard to create a single, perfect portrait of oneself. One minute you’re happy, the next you’re depressed… The list goes on and on. If I had to pay someone to make a portrait of my everyday existence, I tell you I’d die a poor lass. There are moments when we think everything’s the same; like you’re still married to the same man, you still pay the same rent for your apartment, or you still have the same neighbor since you moved in to the neighborhood fifteen years ago. But then again, they say that the only permanent thing in this world is change. And so you notice that that same man you’re still married to is beginning to grow grays along his temple, that the walls of the apartment you’re living in is showing some cracks, and your long-time neighbor no longer jogs every morning at 6. Change.
For the past seventeen years, I don’t know how many times I’ve changed my mind on what I wanted to be. I’m not sure, but somehow, I think all kids wanted to be doctors at one point of their lives. I wanted to be one, but I realized I can’t stand seeing blood for a long time, I aimed for a lot of other professions: police, lawyer, broadcaster, actor, detective. Quite normal, right? And then one day, I just knew what I want, went for it, but didn’t end up as one. That’s the funny part of being so spontaneous. You want to be everything and end up being someone you haven’t really thought of. What’s my point?
I think I was only thirteen when I had a thorough grasp of the meaning of love. You know, the usual not being able to look that person straight in the eye, wanting to see that person every waking hour, needing to be in your best behavior and best clothes when that person is around… Very teeny-bopper. My first concept of hurt was finding out that that person I love didn’t want anything to do with me. I was thirteen. I thought that was how love worked. To be young and naïve…
The cycle continues. You find another person who makes your heart skip a beat, but sadly, there’s always a reason why you can’t be together. Happy, sad. Happy, sad. Happy, sad. The cycle of love. Okay, not that this happens the way I said it. Each cycle is different of course. It can differ most especially in the degree of sadness and happiness. And there’s pain. Pain is inevitable.
Yes, I am one of those people who has experienced the love cycle, but haven’t we all? Just that mine is probably quite different from the usual. It took me a while to be in this happy state. Yes, I am in a happy state. So how did it happen?
I decided to go back to school. Something pushed me to do so. I wanted to get a license. Truth be told I never really wanted to be a teacher, but I found out I was rather good at it, so I took the chance. Back to school, back to new. New environment, new people, new friends, new everything. A fresh start as I would call it. I loved my new friends. I got an unsullied perspective of what’s life is really like. They taught me about culture, harsh realities and a lot more than that, but the best part was they were totally fun. There was never a dull moment except for a few classes where we literally fall asleep. I really loved my new friends.
Well of course there are attractions. Let me go straight to the point. There was this guy in my class, who fitted the tall, dark, and handsome category. I liked him right away. Silent type – check! Rarely smiles – check! Quiet – check! Intelligent – check! The quiet part lasted for a while until we finally got the chance to really talk and hang out. He was a great guy, no doubt about that. He actually showed signs that he liked me too, problem was he was already preoccupied with someone else. Remember what I mentioned while back? The cycle of love, you guessed it right. I think I liked him a lot it hurt to let him go. Funny, I never really had to let him go because in the first place nothing happened. We didn’t get involved. It was just this “I-like-you-I-like-you-too-That’s-great.” I grieved, moped around. Until one day, I just forgot all about it. This is the part where I confidently say, it’s not meant to be. End of story.
I forgot to mention my best friend who became at ease with my new-found friends. He’s a guy. We come a long way, we’ve been friends a few years. He said that my attraction to Mr. tall-dark-handsome guy was just a phase. Oh I tell you, he made me confused that at one point, I actually felt something for him. Maybe because we started spending a lot of time together. Not that spending time with him is unusual, just that we began spending a lot of alone time together to the point that sometimes, people thought we were a couple. But we’re not. Never was, never will be. The cycle happened again and it is quite similar to what happened with Mr. tall-dark-handsome guy. For some reason, I didn’t feel really bad because we are friends. We had the separation drama, just because it felt a little bit uncomfortable, but we’re good now. Everything went back to normal.
What happened in the next few months took a lot of listing pros and cons at the back of my head.
It takes time before I become comfortable around people. Believe it or not I’m a talker, but I can be the quietest person around. When this happens, people around me have this strange impression that I’m a snob or that I’m bored all the time. Of course you don’t have time to explain that you’re observing and listening, or that you’re interested it’s just that you’re too shy to say something or anything at all. Nope, that doesn’t work. First impressions.
I can no longer remember how we became really close. One day we were just laughing together with our friends, and the next we became close text buddies. We’d text until wee hours of the morning. We’d talk about evertyhing. I’d tell her stuff I never told anyone before. She’d do the same. And it stayed that way for quite a while.
To be honest, it no longer surprised me when we started hanging out. Despite our age gap, we clicked. Little did I know that there was more to the clicking. To cut the story short, we ended up falling for each other.
For a while I questioned myself. I wanted to know if it was just a phase. I wanted it to be a phase. But it wasn’t, I knew it wasn’t when I began wanting to be with her all the time no matter what it took. I always say yes when she asked me to go to parties where I didn’t really know anyone. During parties, I don’t go home until she does. It was hard pushing away the idea of me and her but I tried. I ended up falling a little bit more.
I’m tired of hiding in the closet. I feel guilty every time I unintentionally make her feel as if I don’t want to be seen with her. I still get scared of what other people would say but there are times when I just don’t care anymore. There are times I wish they would just find out and let me be.
I don’t know what will happen when my family finds out. I want to be ready when that day comes. At least let me do this today.
Today, I am going to put it into writing: I am a lesbian and I am in love with my girlfriend.