PRIDE | #WattPride

PRIDE

For this years Pride Month, lgbtq are holding a #WattPride writing 'competition'. Each wonderful entry donates $1 by just existing!

This is my entry.

••••

I'm so into you, I can barely breathe

And all I wanna do is to fall in deep

But close ain't close enough

'til we cross the line

••••

High School was disgusting and I hated every minute of it. The only thing that made it tolerable was her. Her with the pink hair, her with bomber jackets, her with the endless supply of bubblegum we shared. My amazing next door neighbour. We were just friends, I told myself everyday, just friends. It became my mantra.

She gave me a lingering hug: Just Friends. She texted me good morning and good night: Just Friends. She took me on Waffle House adventures at midnight: Just Friends. We stay up and watch the sun rise in our tree house: Just Friends. She kissed my cheek: Just Friends.

I wasn't normally shy, ask anyone, I'm usually the centre of attention. But around her, I don't want any of it. I just want her. Her in my car, her in my room, her in my arms, her. Just her. But we're just friends, she'll never see me as more, I tell myself daily.

I'd never dare admit that I love her.

Me, the 'innocent' girl, falling for my best friend, the bad girl. I guess we were both bad, though. Waffle House accommodated is when we were high, the tree house accommodated us when we were drunk. I guess you could say 'Sin Was In', in our friendship.

"Could you pass the salt, please, dear?" She said, offhandedly one night to me in Waffle House. I covered up choking on my food by coughing, quickly handing her the salt. "Thanks, boo." Pet names were common place, but they had never felt so intimate.

"No problem, darling." I responded eventually, and not even her milkshake could hide her surprise. We made eye contact for a moment, and my confidence fell. She couldn't like me, it wasn't possible: we were both girls. My parents had drilled it into me for such a long time: being gay was a sin. I, personally, wasn't religious. If this 'relationship' was so wrong, why did it feel so right?

We finished our food and headed back home, quickly climbing into the tree house. It was nearing two am, and we lay back, staring at the stars through the gap in the ceiling. She lay to my left, her hands folded on her stomach, I had one arm under my head, and the other on my stomach. She kept looking up, naming stars and constellations. I loved it when she did that. I watched as her lips widened into a smile as she told me about Orion's Belt for the fifth time, I bit my lip as her eyes closed slightly as she laughed, and I observed closely how her eyebrows moved around like a dance as she spoke.

Only when she turned to look at me did I realise we had been silent for a while. I watched as her opal eyes looked dead into mine, and I felt my stomach do a backflip. Her eyes flickered from my eyes to my lips, and I tried my best to regulate my breathing. I felt a jolt in my stomach, like a thousand rhinos had jumped into the air and landed at once. She pushed up into her elbows, and her left hand moved to mine. She took a breath in, and moved closer.

Time seemed to freeze, keeping me in blissful suspense. The moment I had thought about for weeks was happening, and I was totally unprepared. It was only a few seconds later, but it seemed like forever, when her lips met mine. We moved in sync, and the kids started as innocent as life itself. Her left hand moved from my hands to my hip, and I shivered slightly. It was innocence that drove the kiss, but from it stemmed passion.

When we broke apart, we exchanged words. Hers were eloquent and Shakespearean, while mine barely formed sentences. She invited me to her house for dinner the next day, and I graciously accepted. Her parents were so sweet, and I was sure by the end of the next day, they knew.

The Tree House became our sacred area. We'd cuddle and watch the stars and kiss and eat food, our blissful innocence fuelling our time together. We loved each other. What more could you say?

When high school wrapped up, and we moved out to college, we lost touch. We still spoke, were still friends, and we still held our memories. But innocence only lasts so long.

She dyed her hair brown again, and married a rich man. Now she's CEO of their company. I'm on the guest list to all of their parties, but I'm always busy. I'm a detective now, I work dangerous cases, and I tell myself it's better to be alone. My partner, Rosa, she's great. At first I thought that it could be that we become something more, but only time would tell. It seems I have a type though.

My partner Rosa smells of bubblegum and cigarettes, and she has pink streaks in her hair. She's my pride and joy, my love. We work cases, we go to dinner, we go home. We're never going to marry, it's not who we are, but damnit, I refuse to loose her too.

Rosa is sweet and kind and beautiful, and wears blazers, not bomber jackets. She's always full of life, a city girl through and through. She loved my knowledge of the stars when we go camping, she never got to see them as a kid. We're rough around the edges and passionate and experienced.

My high school sweetheart is a faded memory, I can't even recall her name. Our innocence held us back, but propelled us into a game. A game of loss and heartbreak, but ultimately one of true love.

My girlfriend Rosa and I are happy, all thanks to my old friend - the girl next door.