I was a junior in high school and she was a senior. She was practically married to this asshole…who was also a good friend of mine. Until, I heard all the shit he put her through.
Yea..I kinda took her from him.
I was that kind of boi back then. I didn’t give a fuck. I wanted mine. Besides, he was a douche! Totally had it coming.
I just wanted to play around. I didn’t want anything serious. I was in high school. A damn cute little butch! And for the most part. Aside from stealing my friend’s girl. I was a damn good butch! Holding doors open, walking on the busy side of the street, giving her my jacket when she got cold. Protect her from the nasty puddle in the sidewalk.
Yes. I do miss those days sometimes. She was so very appreciative and made me smile all the time. Her constant positivity in every situation was..wholesome.
I felt myself falling in love with her. High school, I know. I didn’t want any of those feelings in high school. But, there she was. And I was falling.
I became an asshole. Avoided her in the halls, her phone calls. Acted like she wasn’t there among our friends. When she’d ask what was wrong I’d shrug her off with a, “Nothin’.”
After gym class, I gave my favorite coach the head nod. Good day today. Strutted to my empty locker row to change.
For those who don’t know. Yes. There were other girl’s lockers around mine. Not a one of them changed around me. I was a lesbian in the girl’s locker room. I was a butch in the girl’s locker room. Yep. I was such a friggin’ pervert!
Worked for me. I had the entire row to myself. My gym coach fucking adored me..respected me. And I her. We were both butches in the girl’s locker room! LOL!
Anyway, I opened my locker and out fell a folded up paper note. Written in her smellie pen which instantly reminded me of her. Her smile, her laugh, the way she looks when she’s thinking of the right things to say to me. To comfort me. LOL!
I remember sitting on that bench reading her note and coming close to crying. Knowing my gym coach was literally right around the corner. The second bell rang indicating I had five more minutes to get to class.
I hadn’t even finished changing out of my gym clothes. Gym shorts and my sports bra, still sweating from class. The rest of the girls leaving the locker room. I’m sitting there beating my stupid butch self up.
Out of all the girls this is the one you want to fuck up? Stupid.
Just before I started crying. Coach comes in. Shocked I was still in there. She was only allowed to stay at the doorway of the locker room while we were changing.
“I didn’t think I saw you leave. You’re gunna be late.” She tells me.
I look up from my note and she already knew. She’s been there I’m sure. I’m sure she can smell the letter from where she was standing. This pathetic butch in nothing but gym shorts and a sports bra with a femme’s note.
Fucking classic, right?
“I’ll write you out a pass, ok?” Coach offered.
Finally coming around. Oh shit!
“Thanks Coach.” And I jump up to get ready for class. Holding back tears and heartache.
I held onto that note for years. Years. Even after high school.
When we got back in touch after several years. I apologized. She said everything was fine. In her wonderfully, positive way. Told her I was a fucking kid. I was scared. 17 or 18yrs old..but scared of those feelings. Didn’t want them. Not then. She admitted that it hurt and that she really did love me. And that she had got back with that asshole…and when we became friends again he wasn’t to know that her and I were talking.
Yea. I laughed at that one. It was so fucking long ago? Seriously?
Why am I bringing this up? For some off the wall reason I was reminiscing on our relationship(?) last night. She knew when I was lying. I knew her real self. I would force her to be honest with her feelings and communicate them. Doesn’t matter who you piss off. Since, we do still talk even now. Granted, gets in the way of our friendship. I still know when something is up with her. Just by her voice.
And believe it or not. I do wonder if for any reason we were both single. Would either of us give it another go. She’s the one femme I really let give me pleasure and I enjoyed it. She was the only one who ever let me be myself.
Perhaps she came to mind because I’ve been thinking about dating again. And considering broadening my horizons for a potential girlfriend. Where I strictly have relationships with butches. Perhaps, I should venture out and try dating femmes.
You’re cracking up too, right?!?!?!
Nah. She was then and a very rare case.