A Permanent Label

In this materialistic world where desires distorted morality and plastic smiles concealed imperfections, people partied. Hoards of pompous guests burst through doors, flinging rumors and flirtatious giggles in their wakes. They drunkenly sashayed on rugs that reeked of marijuana while clinging to the opposite sex for reassurance of their sexual appeals. Women revealed cleavage, gyrating on men to draw attention to their slim bodies. Music thumped loudly, drowning out the smallest of small talk. Beer sloshed into cups and onto floors like liquid chocolate. People laughed and raged and stomped. They exchanged numbers and forgot names. They danced on tables, sticking their legs in the air and collapsing once the alcohol really kicked in. Couples disappeared into rooms. Sweat polished the floors like a thin layer of clear nail polish. People vanished in the morning, leaving the booming mansions and supposed friendships as distant memories until the following night.

            Kara sat amidst a wild party, watching herself joke with faceless people. She watched herself down shot after shot, teasing the girls beside her. She watched herself crowd-surf and dance embarrassingly. Meanwhile, in her head Kara remained perched in her seat, her eyes silently cast on her untouched drink.

            It was truly overwhelming sometimes. Yet Kara continued to end up at those same parties pulling those same reckless stunts and having those same forgetful hangovers the morning after. But solitude was worse. Solitude was looking into a mirror, noticing the differences and relying on who to hang out with—in dark loneliness. Solitude was recounting one’s day and only recognizing inequality and painful secrets. So Kara drifted outside to a pool deck and gazed at the stars, hanging close enough to the blasting party that she wasn’t alone and far enough to bask in the fresh air.

            “Kara,” Jaime whispered, her voice dripping with sweet honey. Her lavender breath brushed Kara’s ears as she snuggled beside her, their bodies molding together like puzzle pieces. She twirled Kara’s black waves around her fingers. Jaime leaned closer, needing love and attention. She nuzzled Kara like a little puppy, her eyes moist from crying, sobbing because life was hard.

            They had met in a field of dandelions. Kara had escaped the loud party for the flowers, which muffled the harsh music. She knew she had to return soon to please an audience, knew she had smiles to dole out and men to tease, but for that moment all she had wanted was to breathe. Jaime had wandered into the dandelions as well as if looking for something, a missing part of herself. When she linked eyes with Kara, they both knew. They knew they were the same, that this gene “mutation” called homosexuality was a shared trait. Their irresistible connection had confirmed it. Their hearts beat louder than the pounding music as Jaime floated through the dandelions, bending down to give Kara a lingering kiss. Their kiss signified relief that finally, after all those flashy parties and cement hearts, there was flesh under a plastic mask.

            Their relationship had been easy at first. But the more they publicly held hands, the more their joy became limited to nights. Society was skeptical initially, its hatred confined to whispers. Lesbians? What? God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve. What do their parents think? The whispers hurt, but they were only pinches compared to the daytime isolation. Kara’s parents were fairly liberal and raised Kara in the same fashion. But Jaime’s parents regarded her as the family embarrassment, a mistake, pushed aside like a shabby wet dog. The parties instilled hope. People drank away the segregation and the stereotypes, laughing alongside those they bullied during the day. However, as time wore on, Jaime’s bubbly demeanor dulled to depressed paranoia. Society shoved her, ignoring her pleas. It ripped her clothes, her hair, her faith, her optimism. “I’m just like you!” she begged, but no one listened. Society only saw a homosexual label.