The Memory. (Lesbian Stories)

Rainfall

It was hard to see through the downpour. The droplets created an endless screen of fog through the large blade of light. My eyes never seemed to adjust no matter how hard I tried. But I had to keep trying. My best friend and the girl I most desperately love is out there, missing, needing my help. I can't just stop because of some raindrops in my point of vision.

So I kept going. The trees were not as before. Hard, smacks on the back instead of light taps of curiosity. Rapid fire jerking instead of ballerina-like dancing. It had only been a few minutes since I had just been out here chasing Leslie. It had only been a few minutes since I had seen a figure lurking in the same path. Something in my heart told me to stop looking, that everything would be better if I went back to house. My knees buckled and I collapsed at the thought. 

Everything around me was spinning and beating so fast that I couldn't comprehend what was going on. Until I heard a laugh from behind me. It wasn't anyone else's laugh but Leslie's. I could tell by the slight crackle that burst happy bubbles. Her laugh was typically light and rough at the same time.

"I scared you, didn't I?" a voice said, directly behind me.

"No shit you scared me!" I replied, standing up in the pouring rain.

My heart was racing as fast as my thoughts were around my head. Adding a mixture of feelings, such as happy and pissed, at the same time and you got yourself the recipe of a lifetime. Not to mention I was soaking wet and staring at the most beautifully broken girl in my entire existence. You could say I was slightly flustered.

While stuck in my own thoughts, I hardly realized that Leslie was looking at me with concern. Her face glimmered in the fog, brows slightly furrowed and dripping tiny drops of water down her face. 

"You're not having a panic attack are you? You're breathing heavy, crying, and slightly out of it," she spoke.

~~

I was sitting at the piano upstairs in our studio room. My fingers danced along the keys as Leslie spilled out her feelings to me. The melody was soft and familiar. My heart urged to sing the lyrics to the song I most cherished, but I couldn't do that while Leslie was telling me about how much she loved him, how she did so many things with him and the feeling of nostalgia hit once she realized that he meant what he said. 

"You know, Leslie. Life isn't really about romantic love, is it? It's about doing what you love and with people who love you and you love them in return. It's about all those nights we spent out here, telling each other how we really feel and the stupid stories of our families. It's about living in the moment, and taking risks. And I already know I've taken the biggest risk already." I assured her while also hinting at something I've been keeping from her for a long time. 

In that moment, Leslie slowly looked up at me with the face of mischief. Pinks and flushed tan colors returned to her face. I knew she understood me in a way I didn't really understand. And that was okay. Because not a minute later, my hands were playing new notes with an accompany of a sound board. A cover of "Fight Song" was beginning to float in the cold, empty air around us.

"I still got a lot of fight left me," was left hanging in the air as Leslie took a deep breath and swallowed.

I took a moment to take in what was going on. The way the air felt full of a cheery and hard mist. It sent chills down my spine and bubbles into my blood. Not angry bubbles; bubbles that released the tension and hardness of stone red blood. It let the pink flush into my cheeks, bumps rise with every hair follicle on my body, color return to my skin. Leslie was sort of panting in relief. Her eyes shone with extensive happiness. She had finally let her feelings out in music. Although it isn't her song, she still got over how she was feeling about someone she loved and most likely still will. But for me, I was stuck falling head over feet. 

I was stuck loving her and loving her and no matter what I did, what I sang, I can't get over her. She will stop talking to him, she will stop texting him as much, calling, she will stop seeing him in the hallways but I will always see her. The fog that lifted for her only added to the top of the hole I've gotten myself stuck in. 

My hands fell to my sides. The keyboard that sat next to the piano lit up from a sudden spark in the sky. The storm has only gotten worse since Leslie decided to play a game of lost and found. Nothing new though, as this damn state doesn't do anything but change weather like a teenage girl changed outfits. Soon, I assumed the agitated storm would hold off it's vicious licks at the earth. Our hearts were beating as if we had just ridden an intense roller-coaster. What an adrenaline rush tonight has been.

"You see, not that bad of a feeling is it? Letting everything out, I mean." I mumbled, the screech of my chair echoing after my movements.