rotten apples out there and that most of the fish in the sea are
less than impressive, but there is always that one. I’ll try to
find him for you. I’m pretty good at it.” I kind of lie with that
last bit. Oddly enough, even if it was true, I’d still kind of hate
myself for having to do it at the moment.
I realize that it’s jealousy.
I’m only twenty-four and I’m not in a rush or anything.
In high school, I dated guys for a year before I truly realized
that I just wasn’t attracted to them, and it wasn’t just hormones
or inexperience. I was attracted to girls. I kept that pretty low
key at the time. I wasn’t ashamed, but I was slightly confused
and really scared what people would think. I didn’t really care
about fitting in, but I have to admit that fear kept me from
saying anything to my friends and family for longer than I
wish it would have. I didn’t want to have zero friends. I didn’t
want my parents to hate me. I didn’t want my sister to think I
was weird and not want to hang out with me anymore.
I shouldn’t have worried. When I finally got brave
enough to have the conversation, it was the day after I
graduated. I told my parents and my sister together. They all
assured me, with hugs and tears and laughter, that they could
never stop loving me or wanting to hang out with me. Mandy
is four years older. I’ve always kind of looked up to her, and
her easy acceptance and love made it okay for me to tell my
friends.
I’ve never really had a best friend. Just closer friends in
a group that I often hung out with. One of them basically never
talked to me again, but the rest I still keep in touch with, even
though a few have moved away for college and everyone is
pretty busy doing life in general.