I was in the car dealership with my mom when I was about 7 so she put me in the little kids area. I was bored for a while and then she came in. I don’t know her name. I barely remember what she looked like, but I do remember her hair. It was blond and beautiful. I asked her if I could touch it, she obliged. After a few moments, my father passed by on his way to the bathroom and when he came out, he dragged me away from her.
When we went home, he explained to me why I shouldn’t be touching other girls like that. I apologized and said I didn’t know. I didn’t know that it was wrong to do. I just liked her. She was cool.
So when I entered high school I tried to focus on getting guys to like me. The reality of it was, I was getting close to them, so that I could get their girlfriends to like me. And when a lesbian approached me, I didn’t know what to tell her. I didn’t know what I was. So I told her that she had a pair of gorgeous eyes and then walked away, ashamed of myself. She was so beautiful. Why couldn’t I tell her that? The next day, I did, and we’ve been together ever since.
I´m not...
I think this shows just how important not living with ‘what ifs?’ is.
I wish I had your courage, there’s no way I’d be able to tell a beautiful girl what I think. Not yet.
Sounds like a short and sweet version of a long journey - it seemed like a lifetime for me.
(Kelsey - you totally can!)