I've always known I was different from the people around me. When I was a little girl it was because I was the only black child in my class. When I was a teenager it was because I was coping with the realization that I am a lesbian. In college it was because I was the only female in my Harvard Law graduating class.
All of these differences in my life had isolated me from the people around me. I found it easier and easier to surround myself with work all day and night. If I could stay busy I wouldn't have to deal with a world of people who I'd never learned to interact with.
Since I refuse to stop for life, it made a point to stop for me, I guess...
And so entered Maureen, my gorgeous diva drama queen and the love of my life.
Who would have thought that bumping into a girl who I thought was straight at the time would change my life so much? Not me, that's for sure. One minute I was walking for 11th Street, trying to find the subway station I'd taken to get to my client's home, and the next I'm on the ground looking up at the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on.
She apologized for knocking me over and started to help me clean up my papers. (If I had known Maureen at the time, I'd have laughed at the thought of her cleaning anything, especially for me.)
"My name is Maureen."
Four little words that would forever turn my whole world upside-down. She insisted that she take me to coffee to make it up to me. I was thrilled when she started flirting with me and I was even happier when she said she'd go out with me. My head was spinning. Everything was happening so fast for someone who'd never been considered social. I fell in love quicker than I like to admit and, before I knew it, she'd completely dumped the boyfriend I heard about constantly and was moving in with me as my girlfriend.
She still ranted about him from time to time. I found out things like that he was a film maker and that he had this scarf he always wore. Little pieces to a huge puzzle but it was enough for my mind to form a picture. I had to convince myself he was some sort of a villain to keep myself from getting jealous of a man I'd never met.
Expect before long, I had met him and he wasn't bad. Mark was sweet and cute ( in a teddy bear sort of way) and a hell of a tango dancer. And he was still completely in love Maureen. My Maureen.
And yet, against all logic, I couldn't hate him. I will never be able to hate him. Because every time I see him stare longingly and hopelessly at my girlfriend, every time I see his whole face light up when she says his name, every time I see him bow to her every will, I think to myself...
Maybe this time I'm not so different, after all...