Chain Number1

If you get confused easily, or you don't like to read alot on the computer, or you don't want to read about people's problems, I suggest you go back to whatever page you were on before this and find something else to read. I'm not writing this to look cool or anything like that. I'm merely writing this as a kind of guide for myself. I have so much to think about at one time, it gets all jumbled up and gets very confusing. This is just a way for me to sort it all out, seperate it and all.

So if you're still here, still willing to read on, then I guess I should tell you what my 'thought chains' are. It's like those little link things you make in 3rd grade. You know, you take a strip of paper, glue the two ends together to make a circle, then you make a chain of paper, connecting all the little circles until you have something you can put on your Christmas tree or something. This is what my thought chains are like. It starts with one subject, the source. The source leads me to think of something else, related to the source in one way or another, and so on and so forth. Hopefully that made sense.

This particular chain is about my ongoing battle against myself, trying to sort through everything to determine my sexuality. It's been 2 years, six months, and 11 days (including today) since I first started wondering if I might not be straight. To some people, that may sound like forever, to others, not long at all. For me, it's been one huge, neverending nightmare. I guess I should start all the way back in the beginning.

It was the beginning of 7th grade, at San Onofre Elementary (it was a K-8 school) in San Clemente, California. I was 11 years old. That's when I met a 6th grader named Tyler Arrieta. We never became friends. Back in Cali, I was what people would call a loser. And I'm not being harsh on myself. I didn't have any friends. I was a major tomboy, and I just didn't want to do what the other kids did. Anyways, she was one of the popular cool kids in the 6th grade, so she never talked to me. But I always thought she was just amazing. She was what I considered to be beautiful, back then. Every day at lunch, I'd stand against one of the poles outside (we had an indoor and outdoor cafeteria) and eat, watching her sitting with all her friends. I'd just stare at her. I didn't try to hide it. I would stare, for the whole lunch hour. I felt bad, you know. I mean, it was like I was a little mini stalker or something. But I couldn't help it. In 7th grade, I was attracted to boys. I would ogle at the boys, just like all the other girls. But I couldn't stay away from Tyler.

Finally, I moved, halfway through my 8th grade year. I was glad to get away, because the kids just short of abused me when I lived in Cali. But I still longed to see Tyler every day at lunch, like I used to. By the time I moved, we were on speaking terms, which was nice I guess. When I moved to Michigan from Cali, it was like a fresh start. I had 2 weeks off before I had to go back to school, so I took that time to move on from my bad experiences in California. I also had to get over Tyler. You'd think it would be easy, I mean we never really got close, but it wasn't. It was sooo hard. At the time, I didn't know why it was so hard. I just thought of her as a friend (even though we never were friends). I got over her the first day I started at my new school, Clippert Academy in SouthWest Detroit.

It was February 16, 2005. I walked into the school, and my first emotion was fear. They had metal detectors... in a middle school. I was so afraid for my life, because I'd never had to worry about anything like this in Southern California. But in Detroit, they ran things a little different. I eventually got used to going through the metal detectors every day, but it was still a bit of a shock, anyways.

My first class was science, with Mrs. Waligora (I hated her sooo much. She was so annoying!). She told me to sit down at one of the tables near the back of the room. I sat, and then three things happened. 1) I was over Tyler. 2) I had a best friend, the first ever in my 13 years of life. 3) I started to question the fact that I liked boys.

Her name was Jenna Kaylyn Tully, and to this day, we are best friends. I love her more than words could ever describe. She's done so much for me, shown me so much. We've had our problems, we've had our fights. But we know we can pull through, because our bond is just that strong. Anyways. She was also the one who actually made me start thinking I liked girls.

It scared me at first. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I thought I had some mental disease that made me think different from all the other 13-year-old girls. I wanted to be the same as the other girls, to like boys, and want to go shopping, and get all dressed up and go out. But I wasn't like that. And that's the bottom line. I dressed how I felt. I didn't have any friends, so why should I look nice for the people who don't care about me? Actually, just this past year, in 10th grade, I finally got a sense of style. Now I wear girl clothes, clothes that fit, clothes that look nice on me.

Anyways, I knew right away I thought of Jenna as more than a friend. I longed to hold her, to wrap my arms around her, the way the boys did to their girlfriends. I had a physicial attraction to her, the kind of attraction I just didn't have with any of the boys. It was like she was my secret crush. I couldn't tell anybody about her, I knew they'd cast me out, just like they did in SoCal. So I did the only thing I could do. After about 6 months of the feelings gnawing away at me, I told her how I felt.

By the time 8th grade was over, I had moved about 20 minutes away from where I lived in SouthWest Detroit. That meant we couldn't walk the two blocks to see each other anymore. Now our relationship comprised of talking on the phone and sending each other IMs on the computer. I didn't get to see her for another 9 months or so after 8th grade was over. I decided to tell her over the phone I think. I can't really remember. It might have been a bit of both the phone and IM maybe. I really don't remember.

Anyways, I told her how I felt. I told her that I liked her as more than a friend. I didn't go into details. After all, she was straight. I didn't want to scare her away. It didn't matter what I told her though. The one and only phone conversation we had about this consisted of the following. "Jenna, I... I like you as more than a friend." "I know." "What?" "I know." "Soooo......?" (She giggles here, then moves on to some other topic.)

I wasn't just shot down, I was completely and utterly ignored. And it hurt. Like hell.

I learned to get over it. I mean, she accepted me. Nobody had done that before her. I felt so wanted, so appreciated, I did everything I could to put my feelings for her out of my mind. And it happened. Slowly, but it still happened. I've learned that sometimes, you can't change people, and even if they suck sometimes, you have to accept them for who they are, because if you don't, then you're gonna have a hell of a time trying to change them.

All of this brings me to 9th grade. I don't know what exactly made me snap, but I know that one day I was a happy little freshman, then the next day I was threatening to kill myself.

And, even at the worst point in my entire life, she was there. I can't even begin to explain how hard she tried. She worked for a long time to try and convince me that life was worth living for. The whole idea started off as a kind of "what if I did this" kind of thing. Then I got really serious about it. We were on the computer and the phone at the same time. I was sitting there crying my head off, I don't even know why. She was crying, yelling at me, telling me No! No! No!. She called up one of our friends from 8th grade (her first best friend, actually), Amber. Jenna put us on three-way and Amber told me all about how she had tried to kill herself several times before. She gave me her whole life story, and all in all, it helped me to stop acting so rash. But ultimately, it was Jenna who saved my life. I give her all the credit. She tried so hard, and she's the only person I'd ever known up to that point that would try so hard to do something like that for me. For 6 straight hours, she sat there giving me every single reason why I should live, why I should stay on this earth.

Honestly, I don't know why I thought about suicide to begin with. If I had a friend that would work that hard for me, why hadn't I seen it before? That question eats away at me every single day. I hate myself for not seeing what was there before. I beat myself up over it. But I know that she's still there, so it makes everything all ok.

Also in ninth grade, though I won't go into much detail, I had a teacher who also contributed to my ongoing battle of my sexuality. I won't say her name; I don't really feel comfortable doing that. But I know, when I read this later on in life, that I'll still remember her. She's got a place in my heart forever.

I'll skip to 10th grade, which brings up my first two relationships (both with guys). The first was Justin. Our 'relationship' lasted a whole 3 days. We got to see each other for one of the three. We barely got to kissing each other. I felt bad, you know. I mean, he said he liked me, and I didn't even give him a chance. I still feel bad, I never got a chance to explain myself, but we became good friends after we broke up, so it's a little better.

Next was Kevin. Our relationship was about 2 weeks, but because he lived about 30-40 minutes away from me, in Inkster (I live in Eastpointe, and I have since I moved from SouthWest Detroit), we only got to see each other twice. This relationship I don't feel bad about, because by the second date he was already looking for "the next step". That's too fast for me. I broke up with him and told him we could still be friends, if he wanted. I haven't talked to him since.

I think both boys were just an opportunity to forget about my real problem, however. Her name was Tiffany Pullen. God, I adored her so much. I met her the first day of school, and I couldn't keep my eyes off her the whole year. We started talking when she asked me if I was bi (it had said so on my Myspace profile at the time). Well, that wasn't the first time we had talked, but that was what hit it off. I told her I liked her, she told me the same thing. She had a boyfriend. Sal. I'll hold a grudge against that guy for the rest of my life, probably. Anyways. She told me she wanted to be with me, and that she would break up with Sal for me. That made me so happy. I'd never been with a girl before, and it made me so happy to think that this amazing girl could be my first girlfriend. Then, she just started ignoring me. I didn't know what was wrong, but instead of trying to figure it out, I pushed her away, told her to fuck off. I didn't care. She'd hurt me so bad, I didn't care what I did to her. Then, on the day of our Anatomy mid-term (that's the class we had together), she gave me a note. It was January 18, 2006. I started to read the note before we took the midterm, but I couldn't finish it in class. I asked the teacher to go to the bathroom, and I couldn't stop crying. In the letter she told me she was marrying Sal and that she thought she could completely give herself to him. It crushed me so bad. I ended up getting a C on my midterm (I'm a straight-A student) and that day I went home, drank a bottle of Smirnoff, and got out my Grand Theft Auto and beat people over the head with bats, imagining each little person I was hitting was her. At the time, I had thought I loved her. Now I see it wasn't love, just strong affection, but it was all the same to me at the time. Eventually, by the end of school, we became friends again. But it was just weird for me. I felt this weird feeling every time I was around her. Now, she's getting ready to go to college. I wish her the best of luck, and if she ever reads this... Tiff, I know I was confused. I'm sorry. I should have kept all the confusion to myself. Instead, I chose to get you involved, and I feel terrible about that. I want you to know I've accepted everything that's happened, the choices you've made and the things you've done. It wasn't your fault. I shouldn't have got you mixed up in all my personal problems.

There have been other girls, other times in my life, other places. But Jenna and Tiffany will be like my beacons of light, pointing me in the direction I need to take in my life.

For all the b.s. that's happened since I met Tiff, I will never regret meeting her. She's shown me all she can, and now it's my turn to take it and use it in the way that's best for me.

And as for Jenna, well. She's my best friend. What can I say?