(Lesbian) Heartbreak Hotel and Other Shitty Love Songs (LGBT) (GirlxGirl)

Track Five: Thank God for Girls -Weezer

"Bethany. And what do you mean?"    

"You're always sneaking her around! It's like she's your secret girlfriend. If girls could date girls," He chortles to himself, as if the concept was hilarious. Touche, little guy. Touche.

    "Actually, girls can date girls," I inform him, handing over the snack. He looks up at me with wide eyes. Stop. Bite your tongue. This isn't some gay-friendly episode of Barney. He doesn't need to hear about my innermost gay turmoil. That's between you and me. And Bethany, I guess, when my emotions get the best of me.

    "Now that is crazy, Shelby. Really?" Stuffing his face with my expertly peanut-butter-slathered banana, he blinks at me.
Fuck it. We don't need more kids growing up with this stupid internalized hate like I did.
    "Really."

    I hold my breath as I see realization dawn across his face. Fuck.

    "Oh my god! You're dating Bethy!" He exclaims, putting two and two together like a fifth grader and smiling profusely. Don't blush. Don't blush. Don't fucking blush, or else he'll never stop bugging me about this.

    Would it really be that big of a deal if I just told him the truth? There's this tiny little part of me that's just so fucking tired of pretending. Hating yourself is exhausting-- why do we all do it? Even as I think the words I'm gay. Yes, we're dating. She's my girlfriend, I can feel the walls of my throat sprouting thorns and I quickly find it harder to harder to breathe, and I yank my sweatshirt over my head, just to avoid the oncoming pit-splosion of body odor. By the smell of it, I'm just a touch too late.

Carson can be a bit of a loud mouth, like any self-respecting fifth grader, but there's never anybody around to listen, right? Perks of having nonexistent parents? Fuck it. I have got to do this at some point, right? I like her, and by the looks of it, that's not going to change anytime soon. It's not a big deal, it's okay. It's okay. Somebody needs to show Carson that it's okay-- that's the job of a big sister. The big gay sister. The enormous raging lesbian dyke relative that everyone else in the family chalks up as weirdly liberal.

    Coming out. Jeez, that's... huge. That's like, real fucking life. I mean, sure, he's probably the only person on the planet who will love me unconditionally, my parents included, but it's still a big fucking deal. People struggle to come out to their cats for crying out loud, but then again, we all know how judgemental cats can be.

Seriously, though, people end up homeless over this shit. Over fucking love-- like in some kind of dystopian world. Or dead, for fucks sake. Carson could tell anyone. He could tell Wren. Wren could literally murder me over this. Ha, maybe I'd get one of those documentaries on Oxygen made about me.

Wow, Shelby, way to belittle people's trauma. Wren should be more concerned over what an asshole I am than who I want to fuck. Maybe I should be too.

I'm giving Carson, with his sticky hands and banana-smothered cheeks, the power to ruin my life. Awesome. Well, whatever, it probably wasn't going anywhere anyways.

"Carson," I say, inhaling sharply. I feel my lungs, which had unceasingly been tight since Bethany had first kissed me, quiver, and I wonder if I'll ever be able to breathe again.

He looks up at me, his big blue eyes smiling and full of warmth. I realize, suddenly, that there's not a single hateful thought in his big chubby head, and like a sunflower turning towards the sun, I feel my heart open up to him.

I make my way over to his chair and bend over so that I'm on his level. I grip the edge of the counter so that I don't fall over, because I'm honestly not sure if I'd ever be able to get back up. The smell of peanut butter and banana floods my nose and instantly makes me feel nauseous. Or maybe that was just my increasing anxiety. Or the smell of my nasty stress-sweat. Or all of the above.