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  • Writer's pictureAntonia Green


The first time I realized I might be into girls was when I was 16, wait no, 15. I was 15 when I was dared to kiss the most popular girl in school on the lips during a forced game of spin the bottle.

All eyes on me and her. We were friends, acquaintance more so. I met her in the middle of the circle and she leaned in.

After that night, I tried my very best to push the memory far far away. No way, not me, not gay. Bi?

No that's still gay. I like dick, I could never eat a girl out. My own vagina scares me, how would I be able to be with another one?

It was like I was cursed because every unintentionally gay moment I had started from that very kiss. That meaningless, stupid, peer pressured kiss.

I dated guys to prove to everyone and myself that I wasn't still thinking of that kiss that had been weeks, months, years ago now. And then when I least expected it, I was suddenly caught in another forced game of spin the bottle.

Leaving after graduation, and breaking up with him was the best thing I ever did in my hometown. San Francisco? Nah, only a couple hours away. Seattle? Portland? New York? Still only felt miles away from where I found my mind wandering.

"Barcelona? Are you kidding? Europe dude?? That's excessive!" My best friends tried to be on my side about this. I didn't tell them until about a week before graduation. They're frustration was the most valid thing I'd felt all throughout high school, besides that kiss.

No. Not gay. Not significant.

I didn't want to hurt them, and I didn't want the rest of our time spent together to be put on a countdown. I'd always come back, wouldn't I? That's what planes are for.

I'd gotten a fellowship with this program for young architects. I'd always find myself fixated on city shapes and the possibility of buildings being as abstract as the future sold to me my whole life. I took it and ran, I ran as far as I could. From what? Who knows. My self probably. But like I said, who knows, because I definitely don't. I ran from her, only to end up in Her arms.

I guess I can skip over the blood boilingly slow start of my move out of the country. No, I wasn't fluent in Spanish at the time. Yes, I lost my way several trips to school. Yes, my roommate was cool. No, we didn't become best friends. Yes, my friends from home stopped talking to me after joining sororities and creating lives with the same assholes we went to high school with. No, none of them are friends with my first girl kiss. Yes, she's dating a girl now. Just my luck.

A year had gone by just like that. I'd visited many of the neighboring European countries,as well as beginning an apprenticeship with a Japanese architect, his name was Ryo. We became good friends, more personal than anyone I'd met thus far. He'd let me come over, hangout with his family, feed me, help me with school assignments too. It was like a home away from home.

I'd met a boy name Julio. He was from Portugal, he was studying somewhere in England. Very friendly, as was his dick, very very friendly. He was an architect student as well. We met in Germany during a conference. We kept in touch, and now my closest friend was in England somewhere ending in shire.

By the halfway mark of my second year, my family had decided to come and visit me. I'd been home about two times since moving, I didn't even stay for the summer because there was no point. I had completely disassociated from everything leading up to who I was now, which was still unknown.

December in Spain feels like somewhere in Nevada. 60 degrees, partially cloudy, but better scenery for sure. My parents had rented a house on the island of Majorca. A large villa being perfectly secluded on the coast with a beautiful view of the sea. My mother got a large faux Christmas tree onto our private lawn. It was ridiculous. My father also volunteered to get me a car for the city as if I knew how to drive on the opposite side of the road. It was like I had never even moved out of the country, just to another big city.

It was around 6am when I decided to go for a run Christmas morning. There was a path leading from the property, circling part of the coast and leading me right back to the hill the house was on. It was cold, but watching the sunrise in such a beautiful place took all of that away. It felt like being reborn.

As she rose and time flew, I figured my family would be waking up for presents soon.

And that's when I saw her. She was staring right at me, smiling.

"Nothing like it." Those were her first words to me.

"No kidding, it's like a dream" Was more than I thought I'd be able to muster out. I stared for a moment before it dawned on me.

"Merry Christmas" I whispered.

"The merriest" She followed.

We shared a laugh that could put an angel to sleep. Before I could make anymore stupid sounds from my mouth, I looked at her one last time and waved.

"Yeah, see you" I heard as I turned away.

It was that feeling all over again. I was back at spin the bottle. But this time words were what had me feeling so, I don't know.


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