I fell in love with my roommate.
It was my 2nd year of college, and up until then, I was trying to convince myself I was straight. Although, as embarrassing as it is to admit, I’ve never had a boyfriend. I was never the girl who was good at flirting- and maybe I was being lame, but I always thought the guy who I’d have a great connection with would just casually show up in my life one day.
So for the first time in my life when I felt something more than attraction towards someone, it was scary. Especially since the person I had feelings for was a girl. A straight girl – who happens to have been my best friend and roommate for the past two years.
Why did I fall for her? I have no clue.
Granted, I did have a couple crushes on girls growing up, but the fact that I thought I was bisexual had been dormant in the back of my mind since I was 12 years old. She was the first girl to confirm that I could form an emotional bond with a girl in a romantic way, rather than just imagining wild sexual fantasies in my mind, and be admiring from afar. That’s what made it complicated.
She was absolutely gorgeous, and her laughter could brighten my entire day. She radiated confidence like no woman I’ve ever met before; she knew who she was and was never afraid to be herself and speak her mind. She was sassy, yet maintained a classy reputation. I could always count on her to be there for me when the world didn’t understand. She handled her flaws with grace. She was a drama queen. She was perfect in my eyes.
We grew especially close in those few years we stayed together in college. She was (still is) the type of best friend that most people dream of. I’d never had such a connection to someone before. I felt like I would die if I ever lost her, she meant so much to me. I started daydreaming about what life would be like if we were dating. How amazing it would be. What it would be like to have her as my girlfriend. How much better and natural it would feel to me if we were actually “together” rather than “just friends.” It was crazy, but I couldn’t help it. I always wanted to be with her. I was jealous of every guy who flirted with her.
The words, “sister’s forever” were scribbled into a card she got me for my 19th birthday. I knew in my heart that all we would ever be was friends if not roommates. Why couldn’t I just stop thinking about her? I would lie in bed at night and think about how she hugged me tighter today. Did that mean something? She kissed me on the cheek three times today. What does that mean? Was she trying to tell me something?
No, but that didn’t stop my brain from attempting to turn every situation into a metaphor of her possible romantic love for me. Yet, I still lied awake at night, giddy from how she made me feel that day.
We went out one night to a club, I wanted so badly to tell her how I felt. Or at least touch on the topic of bisexuality.
My best friend sat back in her chair. “I had a dream I was a lesbian once.” She said confidently. I can’t remember how I responded to this, but I do remember nervously attempting to change the subject. I didn’t want her to see how much I would have loved for that to be true.
One of our favorite songs came as we were leaving the club that night. She grabbed my hand and twirled me around. We danced and giggled. She kept spinning me, and with every step, I was falling harder and harder. Many people looked over at us and smiled. My best friend might have been clueless that I was in love with her.
As we ran through the streets, it was just beginning to rain. She took my hand and we ran. I don’t think I’ve ever felt more alive than I did in that moment.
...TO BE CONTINUED $ads={2}