Love letter #2

To my First Girl Crush,

who wrote the poetry I wish I could

Who filled up on weed brownies at the carnival

and licked my revealed stomach in front of the ferris wheel

To my First Girl Crush,

who is not a girl all the time,

because She has mastered the artistry of fluidity and duality

To my First Girl Crush,

who still hypes up my selfies and replies to my snapchat stories

To my First Girl Crush,

Who has never loved me the way I wanted,

but has shown me more love than anyone who has ever claimed to

To my First Girl Crush,

who taught me what the word queer meant by describing Herself

and the feelings She had discovered

with metaphors and anecdotes

To my First Girl Crush,

Who seemed to date in a big circle of friends around me,

To my First Girl Crush,

who said it was because She doesn't want to ruin things,

and  one day i would understand what She meant

And

i did.

i wish more of my romantic interests had shared Her wisdom

To my First Girl Crush,

every now and again

someone will ask about you

and i will smile shyly,

the way i do when i'm called on to speak

i will giggle nervously

the way i had done when i lowered my iq

to dangle off the arms of boys who had nothing to offer me

except cheap compliments and booze

i will make your story bite sized,

and spit it out like a wad of gum that has lost its flavour

and i will try to swallow my melancholy

like vomit on the morning of a deadly hangover

i will cleanse my system with water,

and happily say "we're still friends"

but the sorrow of the regrettable night before

will pour out of me,

vile and explicit,

and there is no one to hold my hair back when i cough up,

"I still wish we had been something more."