Fairy tail

Once upon a time, it isn’t what you’re thinking. A fairy is also a derogatory term for a homosexual. So, welcome to my fairy tale. Fairies were also nature creatures that help flowers grow. So, call the little nature creatures fairies, not us, not me.

It’s become easier to tell our fairy tales, now, since Ellen came out. So, let me tell you my fairy tale or the story of how I came out of the closet. Maybe let others tell their fairy tales. So here’s my fairy tale. Once a young girl, named Nancy, turned 12, and you know what happens to us girls when we turn 12. Yes, we’re talking about puberty. Boobs started getting bigger, got my first period, the usual shit, but like 10% of the population, turns out I ain’t attracted to boys. I didn’t get struck by lightning, no one converted me to lesbian, it was something I discovered. Think of it like the continent of North America. The continent was already there, people were living on it, but somehow Columbus discovered this country. In the same way, I discovered I’m a lesbian. But the COW or COD was ugly, even today. A lot of yelling and almost got hit by my dad but I’m as fast as cats.

Had to wait. There ain’t no place for teenagers to get work with no work permit and you can’t get no work permit without no parent signature. So I was stuck. Grades suffered. Lost a bunch of friends but made new ones. Decided to change career paths since there aren’t a lot of lesbians in the career I was going to go into. What makes God laugh? Damn straight or damn lesbian. Wound up going into construction. A lot of geometry and round saws. Easy but anything is easy when you know how.

Home is where the heart is, but in my case home is where the hell is. Sometimes my girlfriends want to meet my parents, so I make up crap like they’ve passed on or moved to another country. They don’t want to see me and vice versa.

Women understand each other better than men, at least that’s my experience. Most of us wait longer to fuck but then we know each other better. No wam bam thank you ma’am. We know each other,

I just don’t tell them about my folks, that’s all.

Then, I met her., the girl of my dreams. There’s a big surprise. This story is contrived, get used to it. That’s how I am. We met at a gay bar. Trite, I know, but that’s what happened. Just trying to escape or forget. I’m not an alcoholic, I can control it and stop, but me and Marsa took to talking to each other. We just talked. Someone said they’d be more scared of their spouse meeting with someone at a coffee shop once a week than the other one cheating on them. So, we talked; what we do for a living, if we had kids before we came out of the closet, etc. Trite. But we decided to wait and see. We’re not in a rush; neither of us will get pregnant from each other and that’s ok. We were dating and happy

Then, the Supreme Court happened; Thank God. Marriage between any two living people over 18 in the USA became legal. Hallelujah. But then the question came up. Do we want to get married? Not will you marry me, but do we want to marry each other? Weird, awkward. Like when you have a crush on a friend but are afraid to ask.

You know in straight fairy tales, they get married, the guy carries the girl off, they have kids, etc. But, you know what happens in lesbian fairy tales? There’s the book “King and King,” but no kids’ book for us and I know my parents wouldn’t come and they have the contacts for all my relatives. So, me, her, and a GLBT friendly priest? Doesn’t seem logical. We talked about it. My girlfriend wants to and isn’t sure why I don’t want to and I’d want to but don’t want her to know… you get the gist. So, we wind up fighting over stupid things instead of marriage like why one of us didn’t do the mis en place like they said they would or why they didn’t tell the other one where they were going. I became lonely and so did she, but instead of breaking up we decided to get a dog. That way if one of us were angry or lonely or HALT, we could have the dog as company. I know, it sounds weird, but it worked for a while. My girlfriend and I worked together to potty train him. We both grew closer to the dog, but further from each other. We’d bitch to the dog about what the other girlfriend said or did, but the dog didn’t care as long as it was walked, played with, and fed.

But we wound up getting used to the dog, but kept arguing with each other. He was a bandage on a flesh wound, so we broke up; my girlfriend and I because, like men, I was afraid to commit. That’s not true. I was afraid she wouldn’t understand why my family wouldn’t be at our wedding. But, I didn’t want to argue about that too. So, we divided our stuff and talked about what belonged to her and what belonged to me and we were in agreement except for one thing: The dog. It was both our dog so who would keep him? He loves us both. Most dogs choose who their master is, but he loves everyone. We agreed to share him. He’d spend three days with me and four days with her and then reverse it. Weird. But, on the days I got Sniffles, I’d tell him why we broke up and how I still feel lonely for her, but he doesn’t understand. He’s a dog.