Confessions Series

Confessions of Camila Cabello's Tongue

I'm the saddest, most underutilized tongue to have ever existed in this world. All the skills and talents in my entire body, and yet I remain stuck being used for the occasional dicksicles, and food (I swear, if I chew one more fucking banana, I'll lodge myself down her throat so she'll choke and die).

I'm sorry for being surly, this isn't me. 

I just miss my ex-girlfriend.

We used to hang out a lot before. We used to spill secrets that no one could ever know. Used to share secret kisses. Used to eat our special fish tacos.

But when my mistress, Camila Cabello, decided to leave Fifth Harmony eight years ago, I never saw her again.

And it hurt me. A lot.

Last I heard about her, she did a tell-all special (she has always been a sassy one, it's what I admired about her), and it pinched my taste buds upon hearing all about Camila's pussicle, but not a single mention of my name spilling from her, as if I was nobody important, as if we didn't share special moments together.

I cried a lot after her confessions, even if I was incapable of spilling tears. Maybe I salivated a little bit, as my way of crying, but you get the point. That night, my girl Camila Cabello had to chug a lot of alcohol because I kept on salivating (aka crying). The rare time that we were in a club, I chose to fucking choke on my own saliva tears, and in turn, she drowned herself in alcohol. I heard my Auntie Brain shushing me, telling me Hush, There's No Salivating in the Club. But did I listen? Of course not, I don't have ears, only fake tears.

For a long time, I became so depressed that I didn't want to show myself in public anymore. I lost my confidence. I felt ugly.

Being Camila Cabello's tongue used to be so fun, I was always posing in front of the camera, peeking so mischievously, I showed them all the tricks I can do, all the acrobatics I'm capable of, wanting all the attention from those silly shippers that went crazy whenever I showed myself to them. I used to bask in all the glorious attention; I loved the way they created stories about my skills, about where I have been burrowing my cute self into, or whose pussicle I've been licking non-stop.

I liked it.

I enjoyed the controversy.

I loved the conspiracy theories.

I never denied any of that shit.

I kept feeding them enough material to feast on as I continue to spew all the gender-neutral pronouns known to man, and avoided all the male pronouns as if they disgust me. Because they did -- disgust me, that is, at least back then.

They said I'm the gayest tongue to have ever existed in all of 5H history. Me, the gayest? When Lauren Jauregui's Tongue exists? Boy, I was so proud. To be fucking number one in that category? That'll show her who's the boss. I'm at the top of my game, and Lauren Jauregui's tongue was just below me, bottoming as per usual.

Ooh, she didn't like that, at all. There were nights when we would fight, while our mistresses communicated with their mouths, if you know what I mean. Lauren and Camila would sneak into each other's hotel rooms, during their 7/27 tours, and all night they'd be talking non-stop, but not with words, you know, but like they'll be doing gay stuff, like some secret language only the two of them know, and me and my girlfriend (Lauren Jauregui's tongue) also have to spend the entire night bumping against each other -- sometimes talking, sometimes fighting. Most of the time, licking.

Sometimes, we don't even see each other. Because Camila will be spending the entire night playing games with Lauren -- her most favorite being Hide the Tongue Inside Lauren Jauregui's Cavern of Darkness. It's me. I was the tongue being hidden consistently.