It’s happened to the best of us. Lesbian situationships live and die off of right person, wrong time and spring of 2024 was no exception. There I was, walking merrily down the familiar pothole-studded cemented wonderland that is Commonwealth Avenue, crisp can of kiwi guava flavored Celsius in my hand, unaware of the tragedy behind me.
With my backpack entirely unzipped, anyone behind me, say even a person who used to know me pretty well, could spot the Phoebe Bridgers stickers adorning my laptop, upside down as I preferred them to be. They could see my makeup bag turned pencil case peeking out just to the right within the compartment, and my six year old water bottle that had the handle entirely ripped off exposed.
Luckily for me, the girl that I had awkwardly kissed at parties a few times can and will recognize these key factors about myself. We had one of those homoerotic friendships à la every lesbian’s tragic backstory, and it definitely turned into something more, but we were both too scared to confess our feelings for each other. At least, that’s what I tell myself at night when I’m a few too many Tweas deep, scrolling through her Instagram and crying over how I might never get to pet her lizard again.
I’m not a complete loser though. I can stand my ground. I just wish someone had the foresight to let me know she was approaching. When she tapped my shoulder and announced her presence to me, I swung wildly, preparing to take a jab at my assailant.
She looked at me, eyes shining so bright. I put down my arms and stood on both legs once more. She waved at me before continuing her path into CAS and I just stared after her, dumbfounded.
Oh my fucking God.
She wants me back soooo bad.
I was up the rest of the night, concocting wild plans for how to get my former lover back into my arms. I’m not beyond using witchcraft or voodoo dolls or a number of other diabolical schemes to get it done either. I could tell by the way her fingers seductively wiggled in my general direction, the way her left eye closed slightly before the right in her blink, and the way her eyebrows shot up when she saw my initial reaction to her.
She is head over heels. I knew it all along. I am not delusional over what happened between us, no matter what my friends say.