Coming to Terms With My Sexuality

During my high school years, all I ever dreamt of was a boy to love me, to hold me, and of course to brutally pound me. Although I went to an all girls school, most of my friends had a boyfriend by year 8 and most definately by year 9. We had several school discos with our partner boy's school. I tried everything to get the boys to look at me, to ask me to dance. I wore heavy make up, I wore the most peculiar clothes that were so tight you could almost see food digesting, but still, no boy ever asked me to dance or even took a second look at me. It consumed my mind sometimes, these frequent thoughts of loneliness - when all my friends were talking about what a great kisser Ben, Harrison and Daniel were. One thing I did notice about boys is that they always seemed to hurt and break my friends' hearts. If I wasn't bitter about them enough for not giving me any attention, this certainly didn't do them any favours.
After a while, boys just irritated me. They clearly didn't like me for whatever reason, and always seemed to be pressuring my friends into sex, or cheating on them or always saying and doing the wrong thing. Boys, I convinced myself, were a complete waste of time.
In year 9 when I was 14, a new girl had arrived early in the year, Gemma. She was a very attractive girl, long blonde hair and dazzling blue eyes; deep cobalt like the depths of the ocean. She was friends with a few of my friends and soon learned about my religious beliefs of Paganism. I would often get asked about my religion, but never as much as Gemma asked me. I found it flattering in a way, that she became so fascinated. We quickly became friends, best friends in fact. We were in every class together and you would never see one of us without the other. Every night we would call each other and talk for at least 4 hours without fail.
Daydreaming is a mysterious thing. It's amazing what obscure things your imagination can come up with whilst sitting a maths test. I was thinking about Gemma and for a brief moment had this bizarre feeling. I had this momentary desire to touch her. Anywhere. Even just a lingering hug. I quickly dismissed it as I had done the previous year when I had a similar odd feeling about another female friend. This yearning, though I wasn't quite sure what it was, happened a few times. I could tell Gemma anything, and I wanted to tell her about it. But I was frightened of how she would react. I thought of a way as vague as possible to explain these peculiar thoughts.
"Haha, you know what's funny? I used to have a crush on you when you first started." I told her one night on the phone. I held my breath, terrified of what she would say.
"Really? Wow, that's pretty cool! I don't think I've had a girl have a crush on me before haha."
"Well, it was ages ago." I quickly added in case she suspected something. In case I suspected something! There was no way I could actually like a girl, is there? Of course not...
Like me, Gemma had never had a boyfriend, or even kissed a boy. This baffled me. Her long silky blonde hair, her big penetrating blue eyes, her long dancer legs... How could any boy resist her?
Yet another school disco was coming up and as usual, I didn't want to go. Why would I want to go somewhere with music I don't really like, wear clothes I'm not too comfortable in, and be ignored by over 150 boys? Still, Gemma was going so I thought I would tag along for the company. Throughout the evening I socialised with some of my other friends and as usual, was dragged by both arms to get up and dance. I hated dancing. Later on, Gemma came running up to me with a huge grin on her face. Perplexed as to what she could be so happy about on such a dull night out, I asked her why she was grinning.
"I just got my first kiss!" She squealed excitedly. I should have been excited for her, but I wasn't. My first thought for a split second was "Why aren't I happy for her?" Then straight away it hit that I was jealous. Very jealous. Immediately my mind went to its automatic reasoning, "why can't that happen to me?" but that didn't justify the jealousy somehow. What else could I possibly be jealous of? I glanced over at the boy she who had recklessly kissed my best friend. My head was swimming with emotions. I was disgusted. Men giving me another reason to hate them. How could someone just kiss someone, without properly knowing them? After just a few minutes dancing with them, what was with that! Then it hit me, I was jealous because he kissed mybest friend. My Gemma. My Gemma?!
After the disco, we went back to her place. She noticed I was a bit quiet and hadn't said much since we had gotten home.
"What's wrong? You're being pretty quiet."
"Yeah, I just can't believe you kissed that guy, I mean, you didn't even get his number." I found it a bit difficult to look her in the eye.
"Yeah well..." She trailed. "It was a really horrible kiss though! He used his teeth!" I didn't even know that was possible. How on earth would someone use their teeth to kiss! I smiled, and felt a bit better that she didn't really enjoy it. I didn't sleep very well that night at her house. I tried to fathom why I was so jealous she was kissed. I didn't care when any of my other friend's were kissed. Perhaps I was just a little possessive of my best friends. Though it seemed like more than that, much more...

-Endrin-