My first friends only post. Wow. I'm moving up in the world.
Okay, so here's the deal. There's this girl. This girl that I've been dating since November or so. She's not local, so we see each other on weekends. Every other, sometimes more. She stays at my apartment. We've been to Asheville for a long weekend. There's sex (in which I actually broke part of my bathtub). She's sweet and really nice and nerdy and kind of a care taker. She does shit like clean my toilet even when I tell her not to because it's weird. And she tries to get me a gift certificate to my local coffee shop. And she sends me a package in the mail with toffee because she knows I like it and a large jar that she fills with gummy worms and puts a "I'm Hooked On You" label on it with a picture of a cartoon fish and hook. I mean, I don't get the niceness because I'm not used to it, but that's another entry for another time. The point is, I like her and we're going to Savannah this coming weekend.
Now, I'm sort of out. Like, my friends here know I like girls. Some of them have met this girl. It's not a big deal except maybe it is because I've never even said "I'm gay" out loud. Partly because I'm not actually sure that I am so it seems false to claim it and, since I don't know what I am, I have chosen not to label it. But that's probably also another blog entry for another point.
But I've never spoken about any of this to my mom. I've never felt comfortable talking about my person life to any one but to my mom in particular. I don't know why. I mean, I probably know why, but that's yet another blog entry for another time, but regardless, I just never had. So I've never even alluded to the fact that I like girls or to the fact that I, for all intents and purposes at the moment, have one. I mean, when I started going out with my high school boyfriend, I didn't tell her until I was about half way into the relationship. I didn't even tell her I had a date to prom until a month had passed. It's bizarre. I get that.
But now I'm going to Savannah and I didn't tell her about Asheville because it's only a couple hours away, but now I'm crossing state lines and plan on telling her that I'm going. But in telling her that I'm going, I kind of feel like, "I'm going with my friend" is a big giant lie and I don't really want to deal with big giant lies.
I mean, the woman has to know. She'd be blind and deaf not to. I mean, my loves of Natalie Wood, Jennifer Capriati (actually not sexual in the slightest but still part of a very female-oriented trend), Dana Scully and Gillian Anderson, Pam Beasley and Jenna Fischer, Laura Roslin, Xena, the entire women's national soccer team, and Callie and Arizona. I mean . . . I couldn't be more not straight if I tried, at this point. And I was never subtle or shy about it. I mean, we both watch Grey's Anatomy and she raved about Derek and Meredith and I rave about Callie and Arizona and it must be so obvious that she doesn't even think of it.
But to put it into words is still scary, even when dealing with ultra liberal Hillary Clinton-esque moms. Because there's still that part that's like . . . Rejection. And I have more faith in her than that . . . I do. But it's still scary to open up about something that I don't open up about. Because I'm a vault. On accident, but I'm a vault. And I figured I wouldn't say anything until there was something worthy of reporting. But it's like . . . I'm 27. That's kind of old to be so damn vault-y. And I think it'll be really freeing to just, you know. Say it, whatever "it" is.
So I think I'm going for it tomorrow. And I kind of think her reaction will be, "Uh. Yeah. Duh?" and I'll be all blushy because it's my personal life and did I mention I broke my tub? But there's something about this particular moment in my life that is spurring me on.
So please, out there in LJ land, where you are my friends but still mostly safely anonymous, send out your vibes. It's about to get real on a Monday, ya'll.