Let me go back to the beginning…
I’m a child of seven, woken from slumber at the stroke of midnight. Doors began slamming like the roof was on fire and people were rushing to leave. I threw my blanket to the edges in a hurry. As if pushing my ear against the poster-filled wall would save me some of the heartache from the violence I’d hear in the moments to come. This lullaby sang for years and it never got easier, the more I heard it.
I grew up watching the lives of family pass by. I sat in the corner, by myself, watching in blank expression. The people that climbed the stairs constantly changed, and I couldn’t recognize the faces, though I saw them frequently. I’d go back to the computer, writing pages upon pages of stories because I needed a way to cope. See, this family was functioning perfectly fine, but those moments we slipped up, stayed with me as I grew older. Night quickly became associated with a P.O. shoving past me to reach her target and I couldn’t comprehend the events that unfolded. I no longer recognized the stumbling drunks that passed out all day and disappeared often. I was my own best friend because I never knew who to turn to as a child.
So as an adult, I’m trying to figure out how to explain that I need a friend, or better yet, a brother. I know that if you looked me in the eyes, you wouldn’t know who was staring back. And I’m bleeding on these pages, trying to come to terms that what I want is not what I have. Life just gets in the way sometimes, and that, I understand. Maybe I’m just frozen, ruminating about our lives that I recall in memories. But I don’t want these month-long silences to go any further and I’m not sure where to start; it’s like letting go of a grudge you’ve held all your life. Where do we begin?
You laughed like it was a joke. And I laugh with you because I’ve never given a hint that “bisexual” could be a term to describe me. But while you laugh at the possibility I could also be fond of women, I am left questioning my reality.
I’ve never had a girlfriend, so I’m just confused.
I’m in a relationship with a man, so I must be straight.
I begin to wonder if my feelings are even valid… because you decided that being bisexual was just simple confusion, and not who I am. But I could tell you how I studied the flawless features of my best friend. I’d stare at her like she was the best thing on this planet and I loved spending time with her. Or I could remind you of the nervousness I felt as I gazed over my shoulder at my friend. We stood across the room from each other, changing into bathing suits, and I couldn’t help but wish she was as curious as I. As I turned back around, I told myself I didn’t have feelings for girls. It was all in my head and I denied how I felt until I was 22. I was afraid people wouldn’t believe me because I just didn’t fit the stereotype.
I guess what I’m trying to say is…
I’m bisexual. Get over it.
You came up to me in gym class, your arms folded and your brown hair dangling just above your shoulders. You seemed so confident and relaxed, surrounded by people you knew, but were strangers to me. There was a click and it felt like we had known each other our whole lives. There were no awkward conversations, everything just kind of flowed.
Summer came and we were attached at the hips. We bonded over writing and The Simms. Our hair and style brought us to the conclusion that we were twins, and we both wanted to be a doctor after graduating college. Wind blew our hair in crazy directions as we blasted 3OH!3 in your car, and danced like we weren’t driving down a major highway.
We went weeks without speaking once I moved to Delaware. The moment I sent a text or a Facebook message though, it was as if we talked the previous day. Nothing had changed. We were still close and I was thankful, because you were the very first best friend I found after leaving my hometown.
Now you are a ghost I no longer know; and if it were up to me, our lives would be different. We’d still be best friends, but you’re hung up on a grudge I don’t understand; one I think you’ll come to regret over time. If you’re somehow reading this, don’t get me wrong, I’m not being cocky, I just know who you are despite what you may think these days. It would be easy to just stay angry at what I think is unjust, but like I said before you cut me off:
No matter how much we fight, you will always be my best friend – my sister – and I love you.
So whether it’s days or whether it’s years, you know where I am and I will always be there for you. I’m not saying I’ll have open arms to catch you in a hug – I will have colorful words to speak – but I will be there.