Lesbian seaguls

I have a crush on the girl at Cumberland farms, she's across between my first girl crush and Alison Folland's character in "All over me". If you don't know who either of those people are I can't really help you. She always seems to be there when I'm having a bad time and she always cheers me up. Our encounters are always brief and extremely polite, she tells me to smile or that things will get better and like a trained puppy, I smile and laugh, get whatever it is that I needed, say thank you and go on with my day. She has no idea about my little lesbian school girl crush , maybe she thinks I'm some depressed freak and she takes pity on my poor soul. Perhaps she is madly in love with the bakers son but had babies with the milkman or perhaps she is madly out of love and looking for an adventure. Maybe she she has her own blog and is right this moment writing about her own lesbian school girl crush on me. Then again maybe not.


I've been thinking today about the lesbians in my life, it feels stupid just typing it or saying it, "lesbian" what the hell do parts have to do with love in the first place. Who the hell cares what parts are in a relationship as long as no ones hurting anyone. I give up when it comes to explaining my sexuality or preferences. Truth is, I prefer to follow my instincts and my heart, sometimes this gets me into trouble and sometimes its just fun. The fact is I've never felt loyal to the idea of only being with either men or women. Basically, I am one greedy lady, I'm finished questioning myself about what I like and I'm done fighting my attractions for easy situations. I like biker men and butch women, Harleys and gentleman, love and respect, and every once in a while I'll adjust the details because a lady never knows what a lady wants until she's already had it. There is freedom in the "fuck it all", the summer mantra that makes things all better, there is freedom in remembering old parts of yourself. Sometimes you've got to remember where you came from to know where you've been and I want to move forward with only the good.

I was 13 maybe 14 it was a friday night in Stratford and she was tall with those giant skater jeans and a navy blue t-shirt with a white strip at the shoulder inseams. Her blonde hair was down and she smiled the most amazing smile. It was just a crush but man, I thought she was something special. I told her a few years ago about how she was my first girl crush but even then It wasn't really real to me, more of a fantasy or a dream that only happened in my head. Now here's this cashier who reminds me of her and suddenly I think perhaps I'll try to smile before the mindless friendly banter starts next time.