It's been almost a year now,
Since I left you.
And it's been one of the best years of my life. 
I am a completely different person from who I was then.
And I like it this way. 
I'm sitting in my power now, 
rather than being afraid of it.
And while single life single has treated me well this past year,
the thought of being loved still lingers in the back of my mind, 
everyday. 
I want to be loved,
but not how you loved me. 
The way you loved me made me feel dirty.
Used.
Unworthy. 
No, I want to be love loved. 
The type of love you dream about.
I want to be the apple of somebody's eye.
I want to be the first thing someone thinks about in the morning
and the last thing at night. 
I want the simple things to remind someone of me.
I want to be admired while I work.
I want someone to put in just as much effort as I do. 
I want to be equals,

'Open your heart to me'
The words on the oracle card stare back at me
as I sit in deafening silence. 

"My heart is open to you"
I whisper back to the card.

Because it's true,
my heart is open to you.
If I'm being honest,
it has been for a while now. 
When the feelings first came to light,
I brushed them off.
Because I assumed that someone like you could never be interested in someone like me.
I still don't know for sure if I'm reading this situation correctly,
You haven't talked to me,
You can't really.
To many eyes.

Everything I have learned about you
has been through my tarot cards.
And honestly, sometimes
I feel like they are playings a mean trick on me. 
But the cards don't lie.
Only the dealers.

I like to pretend that you don't already know how I feel.
But you probably already know.
You're very observant,

Just as I thought I had everything about my sexuality figured out,
you waltzed right in and turned everything upside down. 
I thought I had finally found my label,
finally figured out that I only liked women. 
Then you came along,
and challenged
everything
I thought 
I knew.
I'm now realizing that I don't care much for labels. 
They put too much pressure on fitting into a category.
And I've never been one to conform. 
Though it is frustrating.
Every time I get close enough to reach for an answer,
it slips through my fingers.

I've settled on the term queer.
It's open-ended and I don't owe anyone an explanation.
I'm unapologetically attracted to women, 
I think they're just perfect. 
But there's something about you that has caught hold of my attention 
and refuses to let go. 
It's thrilling honestly,
I've never felt anything like it.

I always seem to find myself in these types of situations.
Pining for someone I can't have. 
It's silly really,
that I have feelings like this for one of my best friends. 
But regardless,
I had a dream of you.
You had been hurt
and I flocked to you like how a moth flocks to the bug zapper at the edge of the property line.
I knew it would hurt me to see you like that,
but I went anyway.
Lurking in the shadows,
I watched as someone else cared for you. 
Stepping briefly into the light,
I risked a glance at you before
falling back around the corner.
Though I didn't go unseen.
You called to me as you stood on shaking legs.
Heart pounding, I gave up my post around the corner 
as I followed the sound of your voice. 
When I emerged, 
You looked at me with an emotion I couldn't place.
That's when you did it.
Kissed me,

Flirting has never been my strong suit.
Always too shy,
Too subtle,
Too clueless.
However, with you it's different. 
I'm confident,
Say the right words at the right time,
Subtle endearments. 
Though it's different with you because you think it's all in good fun.
Think it's just a bit.
Just a joke.
So you flirt back.
Matching my endearments.
Slipping in pet names and praises now and then.
Cause you think it's just a joke.
Because it should be,
Because you're with someone right now.

It started as a joke.
Our friends calling us lovers.
But I'm afraid it's more than a joke for me now.
Because when you flirt back,
it makes me smile shyly. 
Blush slightly.
Heart beats faster.
One time you use a pet name that hit a little to close to home for my liking.
I was petrified,
Frozen to the core,
Panic seeping in around the edges.

Sometimes,
When I lay on my back on my bed,
My legs hanging over the edge,
Starring up at my colourful fairy lights,
As music softly plays from my record player,
I feel like someone else.
Someone who is living the stereotypical teenage life.
Someone who has a crush on someone who secretly likes her back,
and she has a perfect life.
In these moments,
I lose myself in my thoughts
while I stare up at my ceiling.
In these moments,
I feel unprecedented joy.
In these moments,
I bask in the soft purple glow of my fairy lights 
as I think of her.
She has no identity.
No face, no name, no voice.
She is not real,
She is a figment of my imagination.
She is simply a place holder until I can find her in real life. 
Until I can find someone to replace her.
But for now,
I think of her.
I imagine taking her out on small sappy dates.

I am afraid,
Afraid to admit my feelings for you.
Afraid to admit it to you.
To myself,
To my family,
To the world.
Because that would mean,
my most vulnerable secret,
would be out in the world for people to see.
To judge,
To use me as an example for their children,
To say horrible things to me.
About me.
About my people.
My people who are still fighting to be seen as equals.
And while the ones in my life who matter most know,
The prospect of having everyone know is horrifying.
I live in fear of what people will say.
And I hate it.
I don't want to live in fear anymore.
But I can't help but be afraid.
When my people are still being killed
Simply.
For.
Loving.

People walk with their families,
The sun shines brightly,
The crisp wind blows,
The birds sing from the trees, 
The peepers in the marsh behind my house chirp,
The water from our well drains through the pipe in our yard.
The cherry tree in my neighbor's yard has bloomed,
and the crisp wind shakes it's pink petals to the ground. 
Time feels frozen,
though I know it's not
because as the cars drive by I am pulled from my thoughts.
But if I close my eyes,
Everything seems normal,
it doesn't feel like the world is ending anymore. 
If feels like if I were to open my eyes,
I would be greeted by beautiful laughing faces.
But as I open my eyes,
I'm greeted only by a clumsy bumblebee dancing from dandelion to dandelion.
The sun has been engulfed by clouds now, 
and everything has a different feel. 
I'm transported back to reality.
A reality that I'm not so sure I like.

Tears,
Cascade down my cheeks.
Shedding for the
Desire to be loved.
But feeling undeserving,
because I was loved.
I was loved
and I walked away from it.
I feel like I don't have the right
to cry
to be loved.
Because you loved me.
But I didn't feel the same at the end. 
I miss it,
Not you,
I don't miss you at all.
However, I miss being loved.
The affection.
I miss being greeted with a hug. 
I miss the small kisses placed all over my face.
I miss the cuddling.
I miss the kisses that took my breath away,
that made me feel wanted.
I miss the compliments.
I miss being told that I'm beautiful while my lover's eyes dance down my body.
I miss the surprise hugs from behind while I'm working.
I miss the moments that make me hot under the collar.
I miss being loved,
And all of the glorious things that come with it.

My heart beats faster when I see you. 
My knees shake and I forget how to breathe.
How to talk.
Broken English.
Adrenaline pumping.
Finger guns.
Rosy cheeks.
Gasping for breath.
I don't know if I'm scared of you,
or
If I idolize you.
You're intimidating.
But so am I,
or at least that's what I've been told.
I'm fascinated by you.
Watching how you conduct things so smoothly.
You're so organized and punctual.
I hope to be that way someday.
I'm organized now,
or at least I think I am.
I have a planner.
I keep my meetings and events up to date.
I'm early for most things.
But I don't manage my time well.
I do everything the night before.
You'd think I would've learned by now.
I perform well under stress,
I guess that's why I do it.
You're level headed 
and have such patience.