Dyke F.K

Friends don’t understand: My sexual orientation never changed. I simply fell in love with a very unexpected person”

-EJ LEVY

A knock came at unit 801 on Clifton Heights and marked the inauguration of my sapphic pilgrimage.

Sit me down a couple of months before the soft hammer at my door and ask me how I would define my sexuality and I would have stopped and asked, what kind of question is that?

Have I ever sat down and questioned my heteroromantic behavior and my unexpressed homoromantic thoughts?

Certainly not, until that soft hammer at my door on that cold winter night.

When I opened the door I did not know what to expect, yet I found answers to questions that have lingered in my thoughts for a jillion sunrises and sunsets. The voices in my head had been screaming out loud and in that awesome moment, they found their escape through this worthy of love being that stood in front of me.

What happened next only led to an ill-timed blow to my heart, a blow that left a never-dying sting. It almost felt as if I was that idiot who had received that angry punch for offensively calling someone a dyke. Because of that intense moment you can now call me a dyke arrogantly, but don’t worry; as much as the term might compel someone to nudge you on your face, I promise that no painful nudge will be coming your way from me.

As confusing as it might seem from the outside, dyke felt like the most appropriate “label” for me even though I am neither tomboyish nor butch. My seemingly heteroromantic self was now introduced to her homophile counterpart, this was now the beginning of a long journey with myself.

The worthy of love being, came and went and left me with that never-dying sting with awesome, beautiful, frightening, overwhelming, and candy-coated blue memories but most of all my fiery dyke self.

After a few more spins around the block, with my never-dying sting still, my heteroromantic self – sat down with my extremely bruised homoromantic self and just pulled a Brian.

From that moment on I was so captivated that I forgot how bruised I was, the universe had other plans. Once again years after my sapphic pilgrimage started I found myself opening the door and asking myself the opposite question.

Have I ever sat down and questioned my homoromantic behavior and my unexpressed heteroromantic thoughts?

Suddenly I am surrounded by so much strength, confronted with a well-rounded noble soul that believes that I am meant to be its other half. Not only smart, but loving, athletic, handsome, sexy, funny, and can often be very dramatic, but also always there as a friend first before anything else. On a balcony with then special friends, he happily startled me with a rare 10-carat white gold diamond ring. My now un-bruised homoromantic and heteroromantic selves sat next to each and both said,

My sexual orientation never changed. I simply fell in love with a very unexpected person

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