Sunday, March 10, 2013

a collection of thoughts on baby-making and being gay.

Today I was telling a girl from my work about my relationship history. After talking casually about my past two boyfriends, I mentioned my ex girlfriend. Silence, eye contact. Then she smiled, 'that's so lovely,' she said, 'are you wanting to date more girls?' and I said, 'yes, I want to marry one.' And she asked what made it better, and it said it's like dating your best friend, and she smiled at me and I felt okay for once. My love story sounded pretty when I explained the jungle and sunny beaches. I get so sick of handing people pieces of my heart; it's nice when someone finally appreciates how much it hurts, but how important it is to you all the same.
I've noticed that people generally refer to me as a "lesbian" if they are: a) a male or b) talking about sex. If we are talking about relationships, or if they are close to me, people just say "gay". I prefer gay and am sick of lesbians being cool because they fulfill some twisted male fantasy (too rude?). Actual #lesbianlyf is far less glamorous, just really lonely and confusing. Why are people allowed to marry inanimate objects in Australia (eg. the women who married a roller-coaster in the Gold Coast) but I wouldn't be able to marry the love of my life? It's like saying that person is less than an object.
I can't have children while on SNRIs and, because I don't trust myself off medication for many years to come, I have to content myself with others babies and imaginary girlfriends, and a time where a cot and rocking chair are my latest purchase. My body literally aches for a baby; I feel it in my bones and my stomach as I walk past them. How cruel can life get when I cannot conceive one naturally due to my sexuality, mental condition or age, yet I crave one so passionately? Why?