Last year when I was seventeen my parents were killed in a car accident. My grandparents are ill and on Social Security and could not afford to take me in. My best friend talked her parents into giving me a home. At her home I could have the den converted into a room or share a room with her. We became roommates, bedmates. In her bed she held the blankets up for me, and held me too her and I cried, the first cry since my parents died.

Being hugged by her, held by her, kissed by her, loved by her, gave me the strength to go on. At one point I rolled onto my back and took her into my arms to be loved by her, I held her to me and told her I loved her. The trauma was real, my feelings for her are real, I am in love with her. So maybe if my parents hadn't been killed I would not be lesbian, in love with a woman, maybe. But the truth is that night she held me and she kissed me and I cried I knew that her embrace was for me.

I do not have any desire to be with a man, none. Might as well ask me to kiss a frog. All I see are her lips, her face, her love. Yes when she hugs me and I hug her magic runs through me, I have desire, I want to be touched, felt up, feel her fingers in me, feel her lips on me, and I want to kiss her down there.