Outcasts in Love

Long Story Short

Anna had briefly cut us off after that. She went on to explain the course. I was studying English Literature. It was no surprise to my family, yet at the same time, quite a big shock.

I'd always had a passion for Literature. From as young as I could remember I adored stories, often being nicknamed after the Roald Dahl character, 'Matilda,' due to my advanced reading skills, especially due to my young age. Then, I used to love adventure books. The adolescent Jamie would do anything for the next copy of the 'Alex Rider' collection.

Despite still enjoying the thrill of a triumphant treasure hunt or jungle run, I much prefer the rollercoaster rides of romances now. The up's and down's, 'enemies to lovers', and similar 'friends to lovers' themes are what I crave in a story now. The hope and daydreams, fantasising being the character who falls in love with the unexpected consumes me.

Even though I spent all my time reading, and any other spare time writing, for some reason my family still expected me to become a nurse. I understand their dismay. Every single relative of mine works in healthcare. My Mum, a paramedic. My Dad, a doctor. My Aunt, a surgeon. The list continues. But me- Jamie, a writer. I didn't fit in. I never have.

I've never really been in love before. That romance story cliche I so deeply desire, I could've had, had I just fitted in... again. I had a boyfriend in Year 11, Joe. He was everyone's crush and yet for some reason I was the lucky girl he chose... much to his mistake.

He was perfect. He embraced me; giving me a shoulder to cry on when I fell out with my 'try-hard' friends, holding my hair back when I was throwing up in the art class sink at 9am on something ridiculous like a Wednesday morning, and to everyone's jealousy, standing up for me against anyone who put me down, no matter how minor the incident.

Much to my confusion, and struggle to understand, I just couldn't love him the same way he loved me. I tried. Of course I tried. He put his all into me so why couldn't I just do the same back? It took me a while to understand.

It wasn't until I picked up a WLW romance novel in my school's library that things began to make sense. In an attempt to be more inclusive, my school had bought a collection of LGBTQ+ stories for pride month. Out of sheer curiosity, I took one home with me. As I scanned the pages, taking in this new world, everything fell in to place. This is the love I craved. Not that of a man, one of a woman. I knew in that moment that I was interested in girls but it took me a while to understand how much. Even though I never put the book down, reading it under my covers with a torch, ever so secretly, the last thing I wanted is people questioning my sexuality when I wasn't to sure myself.

I read that book twice in the month I had it for. It wasn't until I closed the last page for the last time that I knew what I was, a lesbian. Most importantly I knew what I had to do. I called Joe, and through stutters and tears I ended our year long relationship.

Bless him. He was ever so understanding. I could tell that he was heartbroken, but, to repeat his own phrase of words; he'd rather know then not. Me and Joe continued to stay friends. The end of our last year of secondary school was quickly approaching so what was the point in falling out now? There was none. After all, we had plans to go to college together, City College of course. We may not have been studying the same subject, but being able to sit together during lunch and breaks was enough for us. That was until the day I had to return the book...