Aleks: Nonbinary in Wurzen.

When things fell apart with Abby it was like a breakup. Not only that, it was not like a breakup I’ve ever experienced. At that moment, when I was walking down the street sobbing in such a gross manner, I was thinking this wasn’t normal. It isn’t normal for me to feel so much falling out with a friend. Why did she make me react so aggressively? Irrationally? In my absolute moment of madness I rang my ex-boyfriend. We had broken up 5 months before that and were attempting to stay friends. By that I mean, I didn’t want to lose him as my best friend but didn’t want to be in a relationship and he still loved me. It was not the healthiest of solutions but I was blind-sighted by my first heartbreak and selfishness. I broke my own heart falling out of love with him. And I broke his too. What a stupid thing to do.
“What’s wrong?” said Sam.
“It’s over, she said she doesn’t want to be my friend!” I cried.
The irony then was completely lost on me. How? Those who are switched on are probably getting frustrated with me for not just getting straight to the point. Yes, it’s true, I was in love with her. But some time is still yet to pass before I even realise that I COULD be in love with her. I had never considered that that might be possible. But, did it just hurt because she broke my heart? Undoubtedly, that contributed to my sorry state. But it was more than that. This experience would lead to essentially my sexual awakening. And I was on the phone to my ex-boyfriend.
“She’s being so weird. That’s very strange. Do you need me to come over?”
“No, it’s fine. I think I need to be on my own. Annie might be home anyhow.”
God, I hate myself. Why am I like this? Why can’t let anyone go? I shouldn’t have rang him at that moment.
“Damn girl what happened?!” exclaimed Annie as I came up through the door.
“Had a really big fight with Abby, don’t really want to talk about it if that’s okay.”
I could have opened up to Annie, but in all honesty, she was a pretty judgemental person. And anyway, Annie was sure she was itching to meet her boyfriend Arnold. She’d much rather she go to him than fuss over me crying and for him end up coming here. He was nice enough but we just didn’t quite click. I often wondered whether it had something to do with the fact that he felt pretty important as the Deputy Editor of the university newspaper and the fact that I held two editorial positions (Photo and Travel Editor respectively) threw off his power balance. Oh and maybe the fact that I was sleeping with the Editor.
“Are you sure?” said Annie, a Film Editor herself.
“Yeah, yeah! I’m just going to get stoned, listen to music really loudly and wail as I attempt to sing. It’s probably better if you’re not here to be honest.”
“Okay, but message me if you need anything. We can get drunk and watch RuPaul’s Dragrace when I get back.”
“Sounds good!”
A door clicks.
Finally.
Alone.
How am I to grasp what just happened?
Lying on the fake leather sofa.
Puffy spiderwebs instead of cheeks. Red, blotchy with vines.
How did it come this? Oh god what a cheesy line.
It was as if she not only ripped out the heart from my chest but also shattered it into a million pieces. With a sledgehammer.
It turned out my heart was made of glass.
It needed to be shattered for me to realise that.
Not quite ice, not that cold. Glass is beautiful and colourful and wonderful to look at but it’s cold to touch. That is who I am.
People always want be around me as I reflect the light in them, but when the magic wears off they drop me.
Or at least that is what it feels like. I’m being melodramatic I know. But when can you be melodramatic if not when you’re heartbroken? Heartbreak squeezes melodrama so much it pops. Abby said the light blinded her and she dropped me. She couldn’t help it.
“I’ve never had a friend like you before. I’ve never been so close to a friend before. I don’t know what to do.”
She might as well have said “You scare me.”
Fangs grew out of my teeth as I saw myself speaking to her in that room.
“So that’s it then. You’re giving up on the friendship?” A quick nod, while holding eye contact. “I just came here for my stuff anyway. Can I have the necklace too please?”
Abby didn’t look at me when she went to get it from her bedside table. It was a birthday present I gave her recently.
And that’s when I left.
This is the most ridiculous ending to this, but I suppose it was always going to happen. A notification. The end of exam party at the end of the week. Of course.
In the days leading up to it not much happened of note. Except I finished the very last essay of my bachelor’s. What I thought was going to be the last essay of my school career, but of course, that was not the case. I’m glad I didn’t know I was going to be doing a master’s. The pure happiness of finishing my degree by handing in that final piece of work carried me through the heartshatter.
“What do you think of this? Is it too slutty?”
Sam looked at me perplex. He didn’t know how to answer. And he was right, who asks an ex that?
“As long as you don’t feel naked I suppose.”
I smiled at myself in the mirror as I turned. I was wearing a white bralette made out of white lace, which mesh barely covering my nipples. The green, yellow and blue patterned kind of seethrough shirt and jeans didn’t make me feel naked.
“Oh babe, you look so sexy, yes tonight we are going to have so much fun!” shouted Betty from the stairs. “Now come on, down this!”
She thrust my cola and vodka into my hand. I obeyed her, as did the boys and we all stuck out our tongues from the sharpness of the sensation.
“Wait I forgot my keys” Bobby ran upstairs, his lanky legs barely visible already. I looked at Sam discreetly. When and how did it happen that he’s going out with my friends while I’ll be trying to pull? This felt unbearably cruel. However, I was not sensitive to that at that moment. Somehow that seems even more cruel.
As we set off singing and strutting down the street, I remembered signing and strutting to “Cover Girl” a few weeks ago.
Abby. The video was on her phone.
No.
“Guys this honestly feels like a moment” Betty grinned as they all lined for a selfie. My best friend, my ex flatmate and my ex. But Betty was there and that’s what was important. We soon lost the guys as they began to party unapologetically. Betty’s bright red lipstick made her wide smile prominent as her curls bounced to the beat of the music.
Then she was gone too. Where did she go? Everything felt a little smudged. A red haired girl with lipstick to match ended up in front of me.
“I’ve lost my friends” I shouted in her ear. My breath was on her cheek as my lips moved. I leaned slowly away to face her. Everything sharpened. Her lipstick was fading, curved around her pillowed lips. How much have I had to drink? I’ve never felt more sober.
“Do you want to go outside? I hid my bottle of vodka nearby.” This was true, I tactically hid it in a bush around the corner to stop it from being confiscated. I fetched the bottle, took a swig and passed it to her as I leaned against a concrete wall. She drank. Passed it back to me. Her fingers clasped the neck. Warm, against the cool glass. I pulled my hand back. My whole body, pulsating.
I want you to kiss me. I want you to kiss me. I want you to kiss me. Hold on do I want you to kiss me? How can I want you to kiss me? You, a woman. A woman. Hair reaching down to your breasts. I was jealous of the way it was cupping them. I am jealous of hair? How much have I had to drink? I’ve never felt more sober…
Her eyes highlighted as if by a black marker pen. Everything drawn with precision. Eyelashes catching the warm light of the lamp nearby. Does this feel magical, or is just the glitter? I want to grab her waist. I want to grab your… How much have I had to drink?
I’ve never…
Suddenly I couldn’t think because her lips were on my lips and as if we had one pair of lips between us and it felt like collapsing on a pile of velvet cushions and oh…
I’ve never felt more sober.
“Are you gay?”
“I honestly don’t have a clue what I am.”
I would have followed her anywhere that night. Her hips melted into my body which quivered in time of the music. I was obsessed. I wanted the soft curves which filled my hands. I wanted to pull the hair that cascaded like water. I wanted to lick all the grooves. My hand up up up the too short skirt. Too short. Too short.
“I can’t. I just broke up with my boyfriend who I still live with and he just saw us. Sorry.” And just like that. A dream burst. Who would have thought it?
My eyes darted around the room. No, I truly lost my friends. What now? Now was certainly not the time for me to stomach the realisation that was climbing up my throat. I’m standing by the concrete wall watching the room. Ah a photographer. He was kind of hot. Looked familiar.
“How are you coping tonight? Photographing events like this sober is not my favourite thing?”
“It’s not too bad, get to talk to you don’t I?” I sent a scornful look his way. “You’re a photographer too?”
“Yeah, I’ve tried to stay away from working uni events. I’m graduating next month, I have all the time in the world to work. In the meantime, it seems I lost my friends”
“Very fair. I can finish now, if you want I can walk you home.” Sure thing.
His name was Callum. He came upstairs. I got excited that he photographed my best friend’s metal gigs. I used to photograph them last year right at the start of my photography “career”. I got different, better paid, gigs and my friend’s band grew also. This is the guy who replaced me it would seem. Looks like we had something in common.
Unfortunately having something in common does not lead to eventful sex. I let him stay because there was no public transport to his house across town. God having someone sleep in my bed made me uneasy. I suppose it happens sometimes. I sighed as I walked down the stairs in the morning. Hope this doesn’t ruin my reputation for never letting anyone sleep over. What a weird thing to be worried about at this moment.
“So I think I burned myself with chillies?” Annie held up her hands. This stopped me right in my tracks.
“What? Wait is that even possible? How spicey were those chillies?”
“The mildest you can get! My hands honestly hurt and I’ve been researching it at night and it’s a real thing! I think I burnt myself while cutting those chillies yesterday.”
“Are you for real? So what do you do now? Don’t tell me you have to go to the doctor.” I said with a side smile. This was entertaining.
“I read that maybe putting it in milk can help?” I snorted but proceeded to get a plate big enough for her hands and poured milk into it.
“Is that enough?” She put her hands in the milk. Creaks on the steps made us jump. Luckily no milk spilled.
Callum had woken up and was looking at us standing over a plate of milk.
“Basically she burnt herself with chillis, because that’s a thing, and apparently milk helps.” I said in one breath.
“Right.” Callum couldn’t have looked more awkward if he tried.
“Sorry, I’d shake your hand but unfortunately it’s got milk on it.” Annie held up her hand.
“No worries” said Callum. Then proceeded the longest 5 seconds of my life. I was trying to think of a smooth transition to get him promptly out of the house. There was none.
“Okay, so thanks had a great night. Let me know when you get home.” What is it with me not being able to breathe between words I thought as I shut the door behind him.
“Damnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn” Annie squealed. We caught his eye in the window which he walked past. We were standing right in front of it. We burst out laughing.
We moved upstairs and I laid on the sofa like a woman scorned lamenting her life in a Renaissance painting. Annie moved her milk plate to the coffee table.
“So I think I’m not straight.” Annie didn’t look particularly surprised. “Can I be really bisexual, pansexual or queer if I had no clue until now? I’ve gone 22 years without realising! But I’m sure I am.”
Annie herself was bi. “Just because you’re coming out now doesn’t make it less valid, just different. Sexuality is fluid anyhow.”
I never considered myself homophobic. But turns out I was homophobic. Just exclusively when it came to myself. How embarrassing. That this embarrassment and guilt and shame soon were dwarfed by my excitement. It felt like Christmas and I can see that Santa left the presents under the tree but I haven’t unwrapped them yet. I switched my Tinder settings to “women only”. I ripped the first layer of the wrapping paper. Santa must have been worried about this present if he put multiple layers.
Bella, 21. The pictures showed a stunning girl with tanned skin, long dirty blonde hair, travelling, climbing, skating, posing next to the sunset. “She’s the woman of my dreams,” I said dramatically as I showed Annie her profile. My first match with a woman. I was going to wait to message her. I felt nervous. But Bella messaged me first. I ran around the flat like a dog who’s about to go for a walk and Annie gave me a side glance.
We agreed on a date. On the bridge. To have a smoke. How did I manage this? Surely someone is pranking me.
The sun started setting as we sat down on the cold metal next to each other. She was somehow even cooler in person. How? And she was looking at me? Saying she loved my short pink bob. How cool I was. Did I fall into a parallel universe?
“Do you want some?” She passed me the joint, her fingers for a second touching mine. A breath. Her voice was deep, smooth like chocolate covered caramel. I wanted her to lick it off me.
Before I knew it I was sitting on her bed and we hadn’t even kissed yet. I’ve never been so nervous in my adult life. I felt 15 again and waiting for the person to lean it. All the time longing and being scared of it.
It was her first time. With a girl, that is. Somehow it made it all the more special. But it did mean we were both too scared to move forward. It was as if we were dogs pushing our balls ever so slightly forward. Praying the other person wouldn’t take it and hide it.
But then suddenly there wasn’t any space left between us and all I can remember is pushing her long her away from her face and watching it fall on her naked back and that nothing not a single thing would ever be the same again.