I sat in the bar sipping on my tenth beer. My throat burned, and my stomach churned with vomit. I felt sick to my very guts, but I still couldn't stop myself from taking another round. I don't remember feeling so rotten before. I believe most girls want a gentle man in bed; who she knew would give her a good night's sleep. Someone, who would appreciate every single crease in their body, holding them close while they kissed with a burning desire; all this seemed complete cow dung to me, because I was one girl who alwaysbroke up after living such a dream.

Till date I have went out with almost the entire basket ball team at high school, dated the two most good looking guys at my college even though I have only been here for two years. From this list of guys, I probably slepy with four-protected to avoid any incidents from happening. Having a man, which was considered a "whole package", didn't seem enough to satisfy me....ever. As easy it was for me to be with anyone, it was equally easy for me to break up with them. After being involved in many relationships, I was left in no doubt that things wouldn’t work out between me and my male victims. For some reason a fine muscular body with strong jaw bones didn't get my attention. Or rather hold it, after having my shirt torn and my panties off in a blink; I couldn't think anything else but to feel like a meal being cherished by a hungry lion. None of this sexual bonding with a man brought me any joy; it only brought me pain and confusion.

I grew up in a practicing catholic home, and untill twelve, I was a strong follower. But one day, I saw my father fornicating with our neighbor while my mother was pregnant. I kept this from my mother, feeling angry inside, until my mother and my sibling died in labor. I moved away to my aunt's in New Jersey and stayed with them till sixteen. They weren't any better than my father; the couple cheated on each other, they thought they were very clever at keeping it a secret. It wasn't long before they were divorced, but I was glad I turned eighteen that night. I moved in with my best friend Berinda the next morning.

I met Berinda in grade 9 when I moved to Jersey. She was a beautiful brunette with long silky hair, with warm green eyes and cherry red lips, imagine all of these on a slightly tanned skin. Her features were symmetrical, just like me. But other than the symmetry we were different, where Berinda had long straight hair till her waist, my black hair fell just around my shoulder. I had blue eyes and a fair complexion with red lips. We were both a slim built but Berinda was bustier and curvier then me. Berinda was six months older than me, so she moved out as soon as she turned eighteen and got herself a place which she was happily sharing with me. At least she was happy when I first moved in, very happy. I realized that Berinda had a different sexual orientation then most of the girls in my school, at least to those who confessed themselves to be "straight". She came out of the shell in grade eleven and that too to protect me from one of my soccer team flames. She was protecting me from accusations that a whinny rich girl, who thought she was all miss popular, threw at me.

"Slut!", screamed Anne in her squeaky voice. Anne was a popular blonde at New State High, a total air head, that you wanted to strangle.

"You think you are all that don't you? Stealing my boy friend, doing one night stands with the whole soccer team, like how disgusting can you get?, seriously", she said squeaking.

"Shut Up Anne, you are no Mother Mary yourself, barking at other people like that about stealing boy friends, let's not forget Eric was your best friend's ex two weeks ago!" said Berinda coldly. Ouch!, B could be a real bitch when she wanted to be, and this side of hers wasn't on public display much.

“Oh be quite nun pretender! Why don't you go and ask forgiveness from God for your evil thoughts about other people, now run along before He punishes you" smirked Anne.

"I am NOT a nun! and If I am going to ask God anything, I will ask Him to give your mom enough money to get you some extra fabric for your micro clothes", whirled Berinda at Anne. This not only caught me but sent a round of hysteria in the auditorium. Flushed with embarrassment, Anne made a comment, that probably changed Berinda's and mine relationship forever.

“Or maybe you should ask God to give you strength to take away your lesbian fantasies, so you would stop staring at girls in shower rooms!". There was thirty second gap where no one spoke, the whole room went quite, and I saw Berinda, eyes blood red...trembling, not from fear, but from pain and anger, " So what?, Lesbian or no lesbian, I am certainly better than a bitch like you!" and she stomped out of the auditorium, leaving a curious mob of students behind.

I have never spoken to Berinda on this matter, because I believed it was a private thing for her and she would share it when she feels comfortable. She hasalways taken care of me, looked after me when I got sick, took up my work shifts when I had exams or other work to do, she sheltered me with everything. She made me feel loved, she has never gone out with anyone, she said she was waiting, for someone special to come to her. I told her that someone special would be crazy not to fall for a beautiful girl like her. That was all that I ever said to her, her eyes seeking a reply, seeking hope. I always tried to avoid that look, because I have never dared to give a respone. How can I ask her who that someone special was, why did I feel jealous, a bit guareded about her. Should I ask her, talk to her about who she thought she was, does she need someone to talk to, to question her?

I fought my own thoughts on the subject, why question Berinda when I couldn't settle with a man myself? Why question her when I cannot fathom my own identity, when I was torn inside, acting like a resident of a confused world. What could I ask her? What attracts her to the female body more then a male, why the female scent seemed more mystic to her? Why ask her, when I knew the answer myself. I have tried every means to convince myself that I was not attracted to women. That I, myself was one of those girls who confessed to be straight and slept with number of men to prove it so. But did any girl felt the true excitement, the love when they came into union with the men they claimed? I hope they weren't as clueless or helpless like me.

I now saw Berinda in a clear light, I saw her as a warrior for standing up for herself, for truly embracing who she was. I envied her, for she was the type of woman I wanted, or would like to be, fragile but strong at the same type. Someone who knew who she was and what she wanted in life. At least she was not the one hurting inside; at least she got away from the confusion and pain of being in a shell. The sneers that people threw her at high school didn't seem enoughtorture now compared to the freedom she was given that day. But even with the freedom she had, I know she was lonely; I know she had waited, waited for me.

She had given up herself, let go of her strongest boundaries to cover me. My eyes stung with realization of her true love towards me. It was her who helped me through school when I had no friends, it was her who took me in when I had no shelter, it was her who stood by my every decision even though it was her who always got hurt, and finally it was her who let her guard down and took the shot to cover me. I have never felt so good and sick at the same time. Good because I knew self denial wasn't the way, bad because I was wasting time admitting the best part of my reality.

I picked up my bag and ran outside, it had started to rain and I welcomed it with open arms. It blended in with my tears, how blind could one get? not to admit what they saw and felt from the one they were in love with, but more importantly from the one who were deeply in love with them. "Berinda I am in LOVE", I screamed through the rain, "I am in LOVE with YOU", I giggled feeling the hot flush in my cheeks.

I ran five blocks to our apartment, flew past the stairs and banged on the door. I felt like an insane woman who just realized they have won the lottery.

"It's me Lucy", I said again, with morepower this time. The door opened and I saw my angel love standing in front of me. She was wearing a soft white cotton shirt with pleated skirt, complimenting her beautiful body. But it wasn't her body that I took notice of. It was her eyes that swept me away. There was so much love and sadness in them, and before I knew I had planted my lips on her and drew her in.

"Luc.." is all I heard before she realized that her dreams have come true, and then she gave away.