The One Who Changed Me

I sit here, and I try to remember who, or what, changed my most subconscious feelings about the world. I think it comes down to her. Not the first girl I ever fell in love with, who helped me to come out, but the one that made me look away.

Before I got in with the “freaks” of Pioneer Middle School, I only knew her as “earring girl.” She was hardly conventionally pretty, but to me she was so captivating that simple words could not describe her. Still today, more than two years later, I shiver thinking about her. The fiery lust I would soon begin to feel for her easily eclipsed the tentative love that I thought was breaking my heart for the one who had made me aware of my sexuality in the first place.

I never knew how naïve I was until I became friends with Elizabeth. She had this daring, spontaneous quality just emanating from her body. I thought she was completely wonderful. Looking back, I am quite certain that she was just completely crazy. I know that’s what the other kids thought. Eighteen earrings, constantly changing her hair color, and always wearing a jacket. I can’t remember what exactly made me push up her sleeves. I just know that I did. On her pale wrists I saw mazes of deep red lines parallel, intersecting, some fading, some scabbing, some horizontal, and some vertical. Blood was her thing, her release. Of course, I had seen cutters before. Other kids my age making little scratch marks with safety pins on the insides of their wrists and ankles. I myself had matured from a five year old who would bang my head into walls whenever I became angry with myself. Middle school, 2002-2003? I began to call it the “Year of the Razor.” Elizabeth seemed a far cry from these superficially depressed pseudo Goths, however. She was almost completely irresponsive to pain. I remember I used to bite her arm. I would sink my teeth into the flesh, breaking it in places. She would just sit there and stare at me, like she was bored, or sometimes, quite pleased.

I knew that I wanted this sophisticated girl to find me attractive, so around this time (I don’t recall if it was before or after the infamous FCAT party), I asked my friend Leanne if her boyfriend (who happened to be Elizabeth’s 19 year old next door neighbor) could get me a pack of cigarettes. My “cool” friends smoked, including Elizabeth, so why shouldn’t I? I had been taking cigarettes out of my mother’s ashtray since October or November, before Elizabeth and I had ever spoken, but I thought that a sophisticated teenager would buy packs of her very own. Anyway, Leanne brought me a pack of Newport’s with two missing. This was April of 2003, when I became a regular smoker, a habit that I have not yet successfully kicked.

Ah, the FCAT party. I don’t remember exactly what started our sick relationship, but I do remember the FCAT party. We were standing outside on the basketball courts, and I think Jeremy was smoking. I was standing with a bunch of friends…Caitlin was there, Jeremy, Rob, and some others. I told Elizabeth how gorgeous she looked, and she said “Does Emilie want a kiss?” I just nodded. My mouth was frozen; I couldn’t have responded if I wanted to. I just nodded; maybe I let out some kind of strangled noise. She leaned down and planted a soft kiss on my lips. I was so happy; I think I danced around.

We dated for about three days, but surprisingly, we did go out on a real date. We went to see a movie. I still remember the movie. It was Anger Management. It doesn’t really matter, though, we mostly just made out throughout the whole thing. The entire row of people got up and moved. I pretended it was funny, but I knew it wasn’t. I knew that my affections for Elizabeth weren’t approved of by very many people. She slept over that night, and we had our fun. Other people didn’t matter to me; all I wanted was her.

I must warn right now that the events from the time I met Elizabeth until the beginning of May are probably not in chronological order. I don’t even know if I should be writing about them. Elizabeth and I were both experimenting with drugs, and this might have helped bring us down. Before the date, after the date, I don’t know for sure when it happened. I just know that it did. Elizabeth and I were both committed within two weeks of each other.