Three years of knowing I don’t know
“Who is hotter Joshua Jackson or Paul Walker?”
Thirteen year old girls hold the silence as the question burns the air.
They’re holding back their laughter at my pause.
I can tell from their faces, the answer should be an easy one
but I don’t fucking know.
I don’t fucking know and I am almost at my breaking point.
It has already been three years of knowing I don’t know,
three years of secret diary entries and stolen glances
and the recognition that I am not like them.
The silence is going on for too long.
“Joshua Jackson.” I say, not at all sure of myself.
They burst out laughing in unison.
“See I told you — lesbian.”
