One Day at a Time

Throughout my entire life, writing has been the thing to save me.

Writing has always been there. I learned to love reading as a child because my mom would read me bedtime stories - a proven fact that if a parent reads to their child, the love of reading will transfer. It was a gift that I will forever cherish because words are, and will always be, the way to my heart. I wanted to be a writer when I was in middle and high school. I thought that I had a gift and, honestly, I still think that I'm pretty good. Unfortunately, I don't have the creativity needed to create my own characters and map out my own plots. I fell in love with characters that were already created in fictional worlds that someone else fabricated, and I began to write fanfiction. I was a fanfic writer for years. It made me happy and was always a great escape from my own life and my own demons. When I was writing, I was focusing on characters and their problems - not mine. It's the escape that every person who watches a tv show or a movie craves; I just translated it to literature.

In the last few years I've stopped writing fanfiction. In fact, I stopped writing altogether unless it was for homework or school. I miss it and I miss the way it helps me process things. So here I am! This journal is because I just graduated from college and am, for the first time in my life, trying to figure out how to live without being a student attending to deadlines and class schedules. I'm trying to navigate this whole adult thing while feeling isolated and lonely because I am no longer surrounded by countless friends who were only a text away, I no longer have fun nights out or library homework dates, and I'm at a weird crossroads or breaking point with my best friend. I'm constantly job searching and constantly coming up empty. I'm lost right now.

So, here I am, turning back to the one thing that has always been there for me: writing. Except this time it's going to be about me. Rants, musings, attempts to process the things I'm struggling with (especially my sexuality). I welcome any comments or insights of anyone who stumbles across this and decides to read.

For now I'm just living my life one day at a time.

I fell in love with my best friend before she was my best friend. We were acquaintances - ya know, she was that girl that sat on the other side of the classroom that I never gave a second thought to, and then she was the girl I was paired up with for an assignment, and then she was someone I had to interact with a lot because the show must go on and we're in the arts, and then she was my friend. I don't know when we became friends but it was sudden. We went from chatting casually to her texting me all the time. We'd get lunch or dinner, with other mutual friends, after class. We went to see shows together and when the first warm sunshine of spring started to appear we spent hours together outside on the grass pretending that we'd do homework, but really just laughing and hanging out and enjoying life. I didn't realize I had a crush on her for awhile and maybe it's silly because at the beginning of that semester I had asked God to give me some kind of freaking sign as to whether I was gay or not, because I sure as hell couldn't figure it out on my own. And then there she was.

It's kind of ironic because I'm not even a religious person. Maybe God or the universe or whatever entity that might exist just wanted to have a good laugh at my expense.

This girl was pretty, and smart, and kind. She was noticeably insecure because of past trauma and honestly, she reminded me a lot of myself before I gained some confidence and happiness. We became friends and for me that blossomed into a harmless crush. Because of that crush, I was constantly searching for signs of her being gay, or straight, or bi, or anything. It was something I didn't want to ask but I had such a strong feeling that she wasn't completely straight. (It's been 3 years and I still feel that way.) I talked to my openly gay friends about it to get their opinions and after hanging out with the two of us they almost always agreed that this girl was as interested in me as I was in her. I was over the moon with excitement but I didn't know how to act, or if that was even true, so I settled for a friendship. If I couldn't date her, that was okay, because she was a great person and we really hit it off as friends.

Fast forward. We go get ice cream together one evening. She picks me up and we end up sitting in a booth for an hour after we finish our ice cream, talking about anything and everything. Normal friend stuff, right? She mentions that her entire family thinks that she's a lesbian because she's never had a boyfriend. I laughed and said I've been there, too, but my family isn't entirely wrong since I identify as bisexual and they don't know it. Then I asked, well, are you a lesbian? Her response was to shake her head and laugh and say "who knows."

Fast forward. It's finals week. The most stressful time for all college students. I'm at the library with a mutual friend and we invite her. She agrees, excited to be included, and shows up a little while later nearly in tears over something that happened in a club she was involved in. She talks to us both but she looks me in the eyes the whole time. She calms down and asks me to go get some food with her to bring back to the library and I agree. Once we're out of sight of our other friends, we hug each other. I don't think she ever wanted to let go. She needed a friend, not a girlfriend, and she needed comfort, not romance. I know that. But still, I hoped.

Fast forward. She told me I had nice boobs. Out of nowhere. Well, thanks?

Fast forward. She's crying on my shoulder because she's so afraid that I'm going to decide that I hate her. I know she has anxiety and depression and I know that her fears are real, even if they are totally out of the blue and random. She tells me that I'm her best friend and that she doesn't want to lose me. I hug her as tight as I can and promise that she isn't going to. It breaks my heart. This was the first of many meltdowns. I convince her to seek help and she does. I'm there through all of it because, yeah, I have a crush on her but above all else she is my best friend and she deserves to be happy and know her own worth.

Fast forward. We live together. Things are wonderful, at first. She cuddles with me on the couch constantly. Is this a normal thing for friends to do? I guess, right? I went with it and I fell in love. Unfortunately, good things aren't meant to last and soon everything began to fall apart. We start to fight a lot, about stupid things like doing the dishes. She stops taking her medication. I fall into a situational depression. My life wasn't full of friends and the things I loved anymore. College was over but I was trying to hang on to the safety of it. We both think that things will get better between us after graduation but they don't. They get worse. I start to hate living with her. We weren't compatible as roommates and that was a sad realization. I tried to talk to her about the things that bothered me, like cleanliness, but it always ended with her thinking I hated her no matter how I approached the subject. I was happy when our lease ended because it was almost the end of our friendship but we made it through. And yet, living together wasn't completely terrible. We had great nights and fun times and so, so many cuddles.

Fast forward. She begins online dating, talking to boys, texting boys, and telling me all about it. I'm her best friend so that's what I'm there for, right? But I'm in love with this girl despite everything. Despite how different we are and how a relationship would never, ever work. I have feelings for her and hearing about these boys BREAKS. MY. HEART. We drift farther apart and I miss my friend and she misses me.

Pause. I spend some time with some friends from college, both much older and wiser than I am. They ask me about her because we were all in the same department. I tell them what's been happening and they share a look and reveal that they think she's infatuated with me. That she doesn't understand or know how to explore her attraction to a woman so she denies it. They tell me this just as I have finally, FINALLY come to terms with the fact that she is straight and has no romantic feelings for me.

Emotional dependency or some kind of buried romantic feelings? Who freaking knows. I'm just trying to live my life now. Whether she was interested in me or not that time has passed and I have to move on for my own mental health. I have to start exercising and find my old, healthy, happy self. I miss the person I used to be and keeping myself entangled in this web of is she/isn't she is killing me.

I'm posting this to hold myself accountable because it's easy to say that I won't hope for her to tell me she wants to date me but the reality is that I want it more than anything and am aware of how. freaking. stupid. that is.

I wanted to comment that my son is 9 and I've been reading to him since he was 5 days old, every day. I do get that it doesn't teach "reading" and agree wholeheartedly that it transfers the love of reading. I have loved reading/been a bookworm since I can remember and I am now in my early 50s. My son started reading/enjoying reading around age 3 (which was when I did as well) and I hope he always loves it. We're reading the Little House on the Prairie series right now.

I'm sorry you're disappointed about your friend not having romantic feelings for you. I know that must be difficult.