Pinch Me

I’ve always known I was different, well not always, but I’ve known ever since I had my first crush in elementary school. The nametag on his desk said Harold, but everyone called him Harry. He had these piercing green eyes and this mop of curly brown hair. He kept to himself a lot but I didn’t blame him. Whenever he would interact with our classmates he would get made fun of. The bullying carried on all through middle school and into our freshman year of high school.

I avoided him early on but eventually I couldn’t help myself. Something just clicked when I talked to him. Maybe it was the fact that he was different too. I didn’t know what made us different back then, but now I do. It’s the gravitational pull I feel towards him. It’s the warmth that I feel in my heart when our fingers are interlaced. It’s the speedy race of my heart whenever I hear him say my name. It’s the constant urge I have to press my lips upon his.

As we became closer I became surer of my love for him. But that’s our problem. We can’t love each other… hell, we can’t even hold hands. Every time we do, we are going against the morals of our families, our friends, and God himself. He’s a boy. Harry is a boy and I am a girl. I know that my feelings for him are wrong. I hear it in church every Sunday. I hear it in the whispers of my parents and their friends when they gossip about couples that are like Harry’s parents. I hear it from my subconscious when I sneak out to meet Harry after nightfall. I know I will be shunned if I pursue these feelings further.

But what is a girl to do when she’s in love. She fights. She does what she has to do be with her soul mate…. Okay, maybe I am being a tad over dramatic but I must get the point across. I am in love with a boy, and I know you must be wondering why this is such a problem. It’s a problem because I am a girl and I am heterosexual. And heterosexuality is not allowed.