“I’ll go down in history as the world’s biggest lovesick fool”, and other such idiotic musings by yours truly, a confused, loveable and disoriented heart.

It was a day in my childhood, you know one of the days where you are reading voraciously and have the full access to televised versions of fairy tales, that I started believing in this magical thing called love. I spent my teenage days, surrounded by couples and puppy lovers, waiting, waiting for it to happen to me, you know that zing, that love at first sight, the beautiful delicate thing, love, but it didn’t. I believed in love, big time, couldn’t ever have enough of it, so I resorted to Austen, Greene, Rowling, Sparks and these celestial beings to show me, love, as it is. Can’t say the search, the wait was any less happy or calm, saying the very least, it was terrible, yeah, I said it, it is grim and distressing to see your friends in love (a cheap and laughable representation of love, but again “teens”, remember), but I still put up a smile and waited. With dreams and hopes, and an awful lot of infatuations, I must say, (fictional characters or real, cut me some slack, books are my first love), school ended, but a true hopeless romantic can never really part with their fantasies and thoughts of finding love, in this modern-day hell for lovers like me who belong in the Victorian or perhaps the age of the Romantics, I was born in the wrong age peeps. Someone once told me that I should have been born in the age of Sappho or Ovid or Wilde or Shakespeare or Austen, but since here we are, the world better revel. It’s me, I’m that Someone (come on, you have got to have a silver lining to hang on to in this petty faux world)

Tick tock it’s college time, I am still the same positive, chubby, bundle of cuteness and with a stock of love, enough for all my loved ones to last a lifetime. Spreading smiles, and love to everyone I meet, I am a popular girl, you know, the bubbly and cuddly piece of happiness, everyone wants to have a share of. I made friends quite the good ones, I must say, supportive, loving, compassionate, fun and altogether who make my life happier. But the wait is still there. I still believe in love, support the rights for everyone to do the same, love and love, that’s all there is. I still have innumerable crushes and infatuations, but never get the courage enough to talk to them (ding dong, self-worth issues trigger warning). It’s a college for girls, and here the fun starts, look don’t judge me or anything, but I’ve been straight my whole life, supported and loved the hell out of my queer friends, I was a good straight ally, you know. I even loved, watched, read and shared every wonderful piece of queer fiction, I ever read or saw, I never really thought of myself ever becoming a part of it, like it could happen for me too.

So, what happened that day, wait for a second, this sounds like the start of a gossip story. But it is my story so shut up. So, one day I was working on the set of our play with other members of our theatre team, and when it all ended, we just sat down to have some tea. I was at that time away from my friends and sitting with a teammate, let’s call her “Amara”, this beautiful problematic and controversial personality, but she was kind to me, and so awfully and quite impossibly sweet. She was there just sitting centimetres close to me, showing me something on her phone, which I do not remember, duh! because I was lost. I looked into her eyes, and I was lost, those dazzling brown big shining eyes and I felt that zing, you know when butterflies dance in your stomach, you get all mushy and exhilarated, that infatuation rush, the adrenaline, and the puppy admiration. I’ve felt that before obviously, but with boys, during intimate hugs with your best bud, or first handshakes with the extremely handsome popular guy, or eye contact with that cute and “eye-candy” level hot junior, but this was the first time it happened with a girl.

I was wrecked, to say the very least, troubled, anxious, of course, I could not contain the adoration at any cost, but there was no doubt in her sexual preference, she was definitely straight, or was she? I’m kidding y’all, she was, straight, I mean. Days went by, the admiration started to grow into a full-fledged crush, the one where you dream about them, fantasize and find occasions to touch them or see them and talk to them, or just stare at them while they went on stage, laugh at their lamest of jokes, stand by her, help her out. For a few days I even tried to suppress the feelings and hideaway, try to escape it all (but, guess who failed at that, me, I did) I don’t know about love but my sexuality sure rushed in. I realised I was a bisexual if we’re going to label it. Me being myself, could not contain this hubbub in my heart, I contacted one of my closest friends first just to get it out and clear my mind, mind you, I was shivering and shaking when I texted it for the first few days, I did not even talk about her face to face, it was just so awkward, new and wild. Then I did, nervously came out to all the friends who were closest to me, told them about my new hubba bubba crush, it went really well, like a puzzle finally piecing together, it felt like a dream, the most calming and beautiful of all. I still have no idea what my brain, body and heart were making a fuss about, it was a magical thing and I am happy that it happened, and the revelation was a blissful surprise (way to go my dumb little, easily confused, disoriented and overthinking heart).

Sorry, buds, but the story ends here, the crush did not last, I still find her attractive and cute and admiring, but she is not the one for me, given my high standards and her being a little dominant and manipulative, to some people. I did perform with her, practised with her, dressed up and dolled up for the performance together, and we are still team members and casual friends. I still see her and get dumbstruck for a few seconds, what hope do I have, she is really pretty, honestly. I still feel that instant rush or the desire to impress her and be with her, which I suppress because there are heavy doubts about our compatibility and everything, but screw that if it’s meant to be it will be, might as well feel that rush, right? I still smile at her, and laugh at her lame jokes or hear her self-praises and stories of her achievements, nodding and staring deep into her eyes trying to find out who she really is, behind all that dominant, strong, hard and lurid exterior. I’ll remember her actually, vividly, like those first teenage crushes and first sloppy love stories, that always remain in the back of your head, because this is my first episode with a girl, the first time I fell for a girl, the moment that I realised who I really was (I am a lover, duh! Petty things like gender, age, status, religion, do not matter to me, and never will). We still have another year of graduation together, fingers crossed, or not? We’ll see about that.

Moving on, it has been a few months but until now I can happily say that I’m still a proud bisexual, thank you very much. Nothing is different, I just am awed, attracted and fall for girls too, I have twice as many infatuations, expectations and disappointments. My eyes still widen and cheeks still blush when I see a cute person out there just so loveable and full of light; I still share all the fiction with my friends, that I read, or see, about love; I still support the hell out of queer rights; I still am a hopeless romantic with hundreds of crushes and dreams big enough to fit into the silver screen; my friends and I, we still laugh on those pathetic made up jokes and stories, a little too much (but who’s judging?); I still send them every other girl or boy that I think is super-duper hot; I still drool over fictional characters.

12-year-old me did not know what queer was, but 13-year-old me did; 14-year-old me was perfectly straight (well that changed currently I am as straight as a hula-hoop); 15-year-old me was awed by queer celebrities and love stories (in retrospect, you go, girl); 16-year-old me did not have a clue about her attractions towards girls (isn’t that a big fat bummer!), but, 17-year-old me did and 18-year-old me is truly proud of everything about her new identity.

I have not come out publicly or to my parents, but I don’t think it is the time to do that, what with my romantic expeditions and steamy love affairs in my head, of course, it is better if I do not tell them until I have someone for them to meet. I don’t think that I should have to at all, my love is my business, it’s a damn good and flourishing business, the market is down, currently, but it is my business. Sometimes it does hurt, when I am talking with my sister and have to control my thoughts and filter them, or when I’m completely hammered and still restrain the urge to talk about it with everyone, or in a frenzy stop my train of thoughts when a cute girl passes by in our college (but, what’s life without some hard work, right ?) It really has been a journey, everything has been so easy, positive and happy, I have not yet seen the harsh parts of being a queer person, like so many of the community members, have. Sometimes, I even think if I should even call myself a bisexual when there are people who fight for it and have seen atrocities for being who they are, and I’m here having this as easy as it can be, I feel like maybe there is a slight chance that I do not deserve any of this, I pray to God to either give everybody this contentment, love and positivity in their life or take it away from me too, but these are just my musings and rumination, the world does not run by them, feeling guilty and regretful for having the lighter end of the experiences is not right! So, I pick myself up, watch some sappy love stories, and I’m back again. I love LOVE, and everything that relates to it, so the next time a person will walk towards me with an eye for art, a smile to die for, eyes that will melt me, and a kind heart, I can trust myself to not look for anything other than the love they will give. I think I’ll be happy; I deserve the love that I dream of and so does everybody reading this. Well, aren’t you all nice to read this! I’m going to post this anonymously but if you do have a thing or two to say to me, well let’s hope the destiny crosses our paths, and when it does I hope we have a date, I could show you a nice time, you know, if you’d let me.

I say this every time I am asked about love, that it is a fairy tale, different and unique for everybody, the most beautiful essence of life. I want every single person, every single being to have the chance to live it, and love and be loved in the manner that they desire. So, go, and regain your faith, love and let love, love and be loved, because this world is indeed too cruel and harsh, and without love, we do not have anything.

Ciao! Yours truly, The awkward hopeless bisexual