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rotten apples out there and that most of the fish in the sea are

less than impressive, but there is always that one. I’ll try to

find him for you. I’m pretty good at it.” I kind of lie with that

last bit. Oddly enough, even if it was true, I’d still kind of hate

myself for having to do it at the moment.

I realize that it’s jealousy.

I’m only twenty-four and I’m not in a rush or anything.

In high school, I dated guys for a year before I truly realized

that I just wasn’t attracted to them, and it wasn’t just hormones

or inexperience. I was attracted to girls. I kept that pretty low

key at the time. I wasn’t ashamed, but I was slightly confused

and really scared what people would think. I didn’t really care

about fitting in, but I have to admit that fear kept me from

saying anything to my friends and family for longer than I

wish it would have. I didn’t want to have zero friends. I didn’t

want my parents to hate me. I didn’t want my sister to think I

was weird and not want to hang out with me anymore.

I shouldn’t have worried. When I finally got brave

enough to have the conversation, it was the day after I

graduated. I told my parents and my sister together. They all

assured me, with hugs and tears and laughter, that they could

never stop loving me or wanting to hang out with me. Mandy

is four years older. I’ve always kind of looked up to her, and

her easy acceptance and love made it okay for me to tell my

friends.

I’ve never really had a best friend. Just closer friends in

a group that I often hung out with. One of them basically never

talked to me again, but the rest I still keep in touch with, even

though a few have moved away for college and everyone is

pretty busy doing life in general.