She's always been there. In one form or another. My first experience that I can remember was the first live-action Scooby-Doo movie. I was sitting alone on my neighbor's couch watching the scene where Daphne and Velma are in a room and the sunlight hits Daphne, hurting the monster inside her, which makes her body twitch and writhe around. I was only in the early years of elementary school, but I knew that the way in which she maneuvered her body made mine feel...weird. I didn't know what it was. All I knew was that down there started to "itch," so I "scratched" it. It felt like nothing else I had ever felt before. There were several other instances that happened over the years as I grew older, but I couldn't tell you anything specific. That is, until I got to middle school. In sixth grade, there was this girl who I had seen around, but never really talked to. Her name was Sierra. She was tall and athletic with curly dirty blonde hair, tanned skin, and soft gray-blue eyes. I thought she was cool. One day, I joined the Girl Scouts. Sierra's mom was the Girl Scout leader and Sierra was in the troop I would be joining. I thought this would be a good way to get to know her better. Sure enough, she invited me to have lunch with her and her group of friends. Years went by and Sierra and I had become best friends. I'd spend the night at her house and she would spend the night at mine. We had so much in common; it was great. I'd mostly gotten along better with boys in previous years, but now, I had a friend who was a girl. One day, my little sister's Girl Scout troop went on a field trip to the zoo. Sierra and I went to help out with the younger girls; babysit, if you will. We spent all day walking around looking at all the different kinds of animals, occasionally holding hands. While we were walking around, I guess to keep things interesting, Sierra decided to play Truth or Dare. It started off with silly little things; I don't remember any specific questions. One was a dare for me to kiss her on the cheek, so I did. It was eventually time for the younger girls to go to bed. Sierra and I were older than them, so we naturally stayed up later. We had our sleeping bags side by side. The game of Truth or Dare was still going. She dared me to kiss her on the lips. The only people I'd ever kissed on the lips were family members. Ew. I hadn't even kissed a boy yet. Still, I was dared to do it, so I did. I was very nervous about doing it, so she helped out by inching closer and closer into my sleeping bag. We kissed again. Every time our lips touched, I laughed a little and we both blushed hard. We kissed a few more times. It must've been the most romantic setting either one of us had ever been in. Lightly kissing on the floor of a banquet room at the zoo surrounded by little girls and a few chaperones. Yeah, ok. Sierra and I kissed a few more times after the trip to the zoo and the game of Truth or Dare. As time went on, we were almost in high school and we kissed less and less. She got a boyfriend and we drifted apart. Whenever we saw each other, we would just hug. There were a few Girl Scout sleepovers and camping trips where we would stay up and cuddle. That was nice. But, she had a boyfriend to worry about. In seventh grade, I met a new girl to our school. Her name was Nina. She was pale with freckles with brown hair and bright blue eyes. She started school in seventh grade. I'd seen her around and we had some classes together, but I didn't really get to know her until eighth grade. I thought she was cool. Since Sierra and I weren't talking or hanging out as much, Nina became my new best friend. She came out to me as bisexual. I'd never heard of this before. She was very proud of it, too. The only experience I'd had with any form of homosexuality was my second cousin, Michael. He was thirty-years older than me and lived in Florida, so I only saw him a few times at Thanksgivings. My mom always said that if Michael had just been gay, that'd be fine, but he was also bipolar and had several other issues, but that's not the point. Nina and I sat together at lunch. Her mom was German, so she would teach me German words and phrases. She told me about her past girlfriends and things they would do together; literally normal middle school couple stuff, but with two girls. Kissing and cuddling with Sierra the year before had me a little confused, but now that I had a word to link it to made a big change. I went home one day and told my mom, "Hey, I think I like girls." I don't remember what her exact response was, but it wasn't negative. Probably something along the line of, "Are you sure?" or "How do you know?" I might have even told her about the game Sierra and I had played at the zoo, again, I don't remember. One day, Nina came over to my house. We went up to my room to be alone, since she told me she had to ask me something important. While sitting on my bed, she asked me to show her how to make out. I was in middle school and my first official kiss had only been two years before. I had never made out with anyone before. I didn't feel like I could tell her I didn't know how or hadn't done it before. My dumbass just kissed her normally, but for uncomfortably longer. She seemed satisfied with this new life skill. After eighth grade, I moved and so did Nina. We were still friends on Facebook and had each other's phone numbers. One day in ninth grade, Nina called me with big news. Turns out she had a girl friend and had moved on from wanting to learn how to make out. She called to tell me that she had oral sex with her girlfriend, so I guess making out, but much lower. I was curious, so I asked questions. What it tasted like? Salty. What it felt like? Soft and wet and warm. Interesting. One day, I went downstairs to use the family computer and there was my little sister looking up lesbian porn. After I caught her, we ended up watching it together just out of pure curiosity. Neither one of us had ever seen anything like that before. When we were elementary school, our aunt read us a picture book about sex and how babies are born. It was weird. We then realized that everyone we knew with kids did it. Ew. Even our grandparents. Ew. They were too old and cute and pure for that. Anyway, I was now I ninth grade. I have a (kinda unfinished) more in depth story on here that refers to this next part. I met this absolute dick of a guy. I somehow developed a crush on him. This girl I didn't know...yet, developed a crush on dickhead, too. I started dating some other guy, so said girl started dating dickwad. The guy and I broke up because he had to "focus more on school." School being code for other girls. Whatever. I turned my eyes back on dipshit...fuck it, his name is Cameron...fucking asshole. We don't like him, okay? Back to the story. One unfortunate day, Cameron asked me out. I said yeah. Little did I know, he was still with the girl. Her name is Summer. Basically, he cheated on both of us with each other and some other poor girls. (One of the other girls was fucking twelve.) Yeah, he's one of those. He would want to come up with sexual stories for us (me and him and him and her and sometimes all three of us or just me and her or me and my mom or sister or my mom and my sister...fucked up shit) One time, he asked me what if Summer and I had a sleepover. I thought about it. Listen, not the whole school, but some people were going up to me and asking me if I hated Summer and asking Summer if she hated me. Our answer was always the same, "I don't know her. How can I hate someone I don't know." Cameron took that and ran with it, I guess. He would want us (me and Summer) to be together so badly and then fucking turn around and say some bullshit like, "I thought you loved me...blah blah blah." Summer and I got tired of it and tried to be friends in like, tenth grade. That year we just so happen to have gym together and guess whose turn it was with Cameron? Fucking mine. I dropped out of school and I was glad he wasn't there to drive me crazy anymore. I was hoping he wasn't going to find out about Summer and I being in the same gym class. Welp, he found out anyway. He asked me if I try to spy on her in the locker room. Context: that locker room was small and the walls were lined with lockers. There were no stalls to change in. There was one toilet and sink that closed with a door. It'd take for fucking ever for each girl to go in a change one by one. We just changed infront of each other. And yeah, I did catch glimpses of her mid change. She had a nice body. It looked soft and very cuddly. I couldn't let him soil this little thing I had to myself. I wanted to be her friend so badly. I would watch her laugh with other girls. God, her laugh. It was literally contagious. I loved it. I still do to this day...years later. This isn't one of those stories. We're not married now or anything, as cute of a story that would be. Life doesn't work like that. Anyway, she and I had slowly become friends...kinda. I found out her favorite color was purple. One day, we got a free day in gym. I was sitting on the sidewalk when I noticed the tiniest purple flower growing out from between the slabs of concrete; I thought it was symbolic and cute. The little flower made me think of her, so I picked it and gave it to her. She loved it. From there I eventually (finally) broke up with Cameron and Summer and I bonded over our shared abuse from him. We not only dated the same guy, but we had a mirrored relationship to each other. Whatever he did to her, he did to me. He pulled a knife of her and lightly threatened to rape me. Fun times. Years later, we're in our late teens/very early twenties. Her and her best friend of over ten years lovingly invited me into their arms. It was the best time any of us had ever had with anyone. We would drive around town, sing songs, do podcasts, take pictures, swim, eat, sleep, lay around in comfortable silence, go over past trauma, make dumb little videos, watch movies and tv, and take photoshoots together...fun shit. Somehow (I unfortunately don't remember exactly how it happened), but Summer and I kissed. It was a flash back to Sierra and I playing Truth or Dare at the zoo in our sleeping bags. I was nervous, but so happy every time it happened. I don't regret it at all. We kissed and cuddled all the time. We were both very happy. Our friend was also very happy, shipping us all the way. She shipped us so hard. She eventually found someone who she wanted to be with and they started dating and I had started talking to someone. The kissing and cuddling had come to an end and so would our hard earned friendship. She means so much to me. She was beautiful. Her natural hair was a soft brown, always worn long. She liked to dye black or red or even both. She was pale and deep blue eyes. Her skin was so soft and warm. Literally the best person to cuddle with ever. Her laugh, like I said earlier, is contagious and the sound of pure happiness. She is the funniest person I've ever known. Other people have made me laugh so hard that I'm in tears, but never as much as her. She had the most beautiful and powerful voice. Sometimes, she would burst out into song. There are a lot of things in life that I regret. None of which I regret more than not paying enough attention to what I had when I had it; her. I've lost her. We're not friends anymore. We haven't spoken in years. It hurts. I think about her and our time together every damn day. I wish we had more time together. If only we hadn't let a fucking boy get in our way back in ninth grade. That was time wasted, but I know we're both glad we had that experience, otherwise, we wouldn't be who we are today. Two young women. We're now in our mid twenties. Thirty is only four years away. If only she knew how much she really meant to me. I told our friend a few years ago that she was the girl for me. I don't like labels, but in a way I guess you could say I am bi. Intercourse with another woman, not going to lie, intimidates me. I saw a post years ago that talked about lesbians in the 1980s who were more interested in kissing and cuddling were called bambi lesbians. How fucking cute. Not going to lie about this either (I've also never told anyone this before), but when I watch porn, I tend to pay more attention to the girl. Make of that what you will. I do enjoy sex with a guy, but girls turn me on. I don't know. Yet, here I am, a month away from getting married to a guy. Ew. If you'd asked me seven years ago where I'd be in almost ten years, I'd have my best friendS by my side. Looking back now, that's all I want. That is what is most important. But in one form or another, she's always been there.
