So, right after the shooting at Pulse Orlando happened there was a vigil held here in my city. Of course I went. The energy there was amazing. It was so great to see so many around here come out in support. So many around me were moved to tears as the names of the victims were read. I can’t say I didn’t shed a few tears, too. I was pretty speechless the entire night as I thought about all of my gay friends and people who could have been there, who could have lost their lives. And then I thought about all of those who had to live in the closet. I can pretty much guarantee that there is someone somewhere that was deeply in love with one of the victims and never got to tell them because they were in the closet for one reason or another. As the vigil came to a close and everyone started to disperse I sat down one a bench and wrote the following piece of (super) flash fiction.
This story is dedicated to all the victims of Pulse, and to all of those that must remain in the closet. ❤
~*~She leaned over and kissed me. “I love you,” she whispered before her lips touched mine in the most tender kiss I’d ever known.
My world lit on fire that moment. The proverbial fireworks went off and my arms reached up around her. I needed to feel her, to know this was real. I’d dated many boys and kissed several more. All of them felt lacking, unfulfilling. I never understood why. I thought something was wrong with me. Even when I had sex with them it never felt as pleasurable as all my friends made it sound. I didn’t know why.
But Sarah did.
We’d known each other since we were 13. She came out to me when we were 16. She’d listened to my tales of failed relationships and nodded along when I told her how cold boys had left me feeling. The feelings and reactions were all too familiar to her. I could see it in her eyes.
Two days ago she called me, crying. There had been a mass shooting at a gay bar in Florida. Neither of us knew anybody there, but it upset her greatly. Our city quickly organized a vigil and we both planned to attend.
That’s where we are. The major just gave a speech, ending with “don’t forget to tell those you love how you feel.”
Immediately after that she turned to me and leaned over, whispering those three little words. In that moment she changed my life.
It never worked with any of those boys because I loved her. They never turned me on because I wasn’t straight. Suddenly it all made sense. Why I would always look at girls at the mall instead of boys. I always brushed it off as looking at their clothes or their purses. Not at them. But if I was honest with myself it wasn’t just their clothes I was noticing. It was them. Their eyes, the curves of their bodies, their smile, even theh way they would laugh if I was in a close enough proximity to them. The reason I did all of that, why I didn’t ever look at boys was…I’m gay. I’m a lesbian.
Slowly I pulled back, my eyes raising to look up into hers. “I love you, too.”
Her eyes searched mine for a moment. Then a smile slowly broke out across her face and we once again embraced, our lips meeting in another kiss.