(no subject)
I remember Sophomore year of high schoool. I was friends with a bunch of guys who didn't go to kirkwood with me. It was sort of refreshing having that option out. I could do whatever I wanted to and say whatever I wanted to these guys, and it wouldn't matter on Monday.
I remember when I first met them, I was the new girl of the group. I got a lot of attention from them. They really liked hanging out with me. They called me every day, just to talk.
I had a crush on one of them. He had the same sense of humor as me. He joked about inappropriate things. He was as much a dick as I was a cunt. He was the only person I remember feeling completely satisfied just being myself around. I mean, this was high school, and I had a romantic interest in someone who validated all my quirks, faults, and insane behavior. That's pretty fucking special.
I remember overhearing him tell one of the other guys that he knows he could get whatever he wanted from me because I was easy.
I just relived this in my dream last night.
I know most girls are used to being called a slut when they're younger, for no good reason. They have big tits, or their parents aren't married, or they kissed their boyfriend, or a rumor was started by someone else that they gave five guys hand jobs in one night, or they're flirty, or they're oppinionated...or maybe they just really feel comfortable with other people.
I think I sort of repressed this memory until last night, in a way. I mean, if someone asked me about it, I would have been able to talk about it, but I never thought about it, at all. I remember after I heard this guy say this, I cried a lot. I spent most of the day in the bathroom, crying. I remember going home and telling my mom I was sick so I could go upstairs and she wouldn't bother me.
The same thing happened with Joe, freshman year. God, i do not want to be reminded of that ever again.
I think I own my sexuality. I think I'm open to most things. I think I carry myself with pride and respect and I really think I have a healthy attitude about boys, even if I don't practice it all the time (ahem, Dan). Most of all, I usually own up to my behavior and I am self aware.
But really, maybe I'm just a slut. Maybe it's slutty to open up your heart to someone and expressing that physically. Or even, in the case of my high school story, to feel happy with someone and holding them every so often, so as not to lose the femininity among so many males.
Fuck, I really just need to stop thinking or dreaming or whatever. Maybe I need to see a shrink again, I don't know.
Anyway, to all those women in the sisterhood, keep fighting the good fight. Oi, Oi, Oi.
I'm so gay.