Being a lesbian and finally coming to terms with who I am has been the best thing to ever happen to me. I’m not exactly sure how to put this into words, but I’ll explain it as best I can:
There wasn’t a day where I didn’t love women. There wasn’t a day where my perception of love didn’t include and revolve around the idea of loving women; they are the Sun and I am Mercury-- close enough to look and wonder and daydream but not actually touch for the danger of the flames.
I no longer am scared of getting hit by a solar flare or getting close enough to feel the Sun’s heat on my face, but I can’t help but wonder what the stars would think if a planet were to fall in love with the Sun.
Am I hedonistic for not being able to help myself? For not caring if I’d be consumed by the Sun’s flames in a millisecond and wanting to spend the rest of my life engulfed in her warmth. For being willing to explode and send bits of myself across the galaxy if it meant I’d get even a foot closer to her. No. A foot less than 31 million miles isn’t enough and it will never be.
I’m not hedonistic. I’m just capable of feeling gravity’s pull so deeply. Capable of refusing to succumb to the arbitrary rules of the cosmos.
I inch closer and closer to the Sun, I feel her warmth hit my face, and let her flames lick at my skin. I don’t worry about anything.
