MOLTEN HEART ♱ BELLY CONKLIN

01. Long Live A Childhood Crush

ILLICIT BLUES.
01. ╱   Long Live A Childhood Crush

   At the ripe age of ten, Marigold realized She was in love with Isabel Conklin.

   Cheesy, I know.

   With all the late night trips to the beach, movie nights, sleepovers───all of it led to the moment she declared herself in love with her best friend. At that age, she thought it was the end of the world. She felt ashamed of herself. Knowing of Belly's crush on her brother, she allowed herself to fall for the girl knowing she would never feel the same. She was too strung up in the bright blue eyes of Conrad.

   She loved Conrad, she really did, but sometimes she envied him, in more ways than one.

   Over the years, Marigold only fell farther in love with Belly.

Ten. She was finally figuring myself out . . . kind of. It was the year she realized she had a crush on Belly. she remembers the moment so clearly, cuddled into the side of her as we watched a movie. Giggles surrounded the room at their lame attempt of keeping themselves quiet, knowing they weren't supposed to be awake, or together. Belly was taking her fingers through Marigold's hair gently, twirling it around her finger. The comfort of the girl beside her, the happiness from such a simple touch, and she was gone . . .

   Eleven.     She had her first kiss, Jordan Jones. Yeah, dumb name, isn't it? He kissed her one night at a game of spin the bottle. She was absolutely disgusted the second his lips touched hers. He tried to stick his tongue into her mouth to which she instantly pulled away. She had cried to Belly that night but never told her why. She couldn't tell Belly that she didn't like boys, it wasn't right, was it?

Twelve. She wrote an anonymous love letter to the Conklin girl. She secretly left the note underneath her pink satin pillow, and was eager when she woke up to see the girl's reaction. When Belly came bursting into her room the next morning, squealing at the letter that... Conrad gave her, she felt something inside myself rot. Marigold smiled and listened to the girl, happy to merely see the smile on her face. Though, deep down she was trying not to cry, trying to stay hidden from her own feelings.

Thirteen. The year her love for Belly changed. No, she didn't stop loving her, it only became more serious, you could say. She started noticing the girl's lips, noticing the girl's legs, her chest, she couldn't take her eyes off of Belly. And God, those eyes. She felt peace anytime she gazed into those eyes of her's. She didn't want these feelings, she couldn't control these feelings. She wanted the thought of kissing the girl, pulling her in by her waist, to leave her mind. But they never did.

Fourteen. Her first kiss . . . with a girl. God, it felt amazing, but there was one little thing wrong with it. While she kissed Stacy Jacobs, Stacy Jacobs wasn't Stacy Jacobs. Stacy Jacobs was Belly Conklin. She couldn't get that girl off her mind. No matter how many times she tried. Even though she couldn't ever imagine herself being with anyone else but a girl, she continued to deny her own sexuality. She never discussed it with her family, never corrected her mother when she talked about boys.

    Fifteen.     Jeremiah came out as bisexual, and she finally felt a sense normality. And even though her family didn't even blink a judgmental eye, she couldn't bring herself to confess to them. She wanted to tell herself, hold on to the idea, that she liked boys. But truthfully, it made her sick to ever imagine herself in a relationship with one. She hadn't fully come to terms with herself. She had the fear that the moment she told them, it becomes real, and she's not sure she was ready for it to do such a thing.