Girl

Originally written January 8, 2011. This was an old post from my other blog I wanted to post here

 I've been spending a lot more time with Bbbm, more then i expected.  I've gone over to his house a few times. Most of the time when I'm there I pack a pair of pajama bottoms i can slack off in his couch in. we sit there in sweat-pants and worn T-shirts. watching our favorite episodes of Tv's show that aren't airing anymore. I throw my feet over his lap, claiming him like a conquered country while his primary partner is fiddling on her laptop in the next room. The other day we were sitting  exactly like this, while editing pictures for a photography class I took this past semester. He knows far more about Cs5 then i do and i admit i made little effort in actually trying to learn anything about it. Instead of editing the photographs myself, I nuzzled my laptop between his arm and his ribcage; hoping he would get the gesture. He looked at me and smiled. I noticed how much I like to see his glasses perched on his nose; how dark the hairs of his beard appear  in florescent light and length of his lashes  from the angle we were twisted in.

You're such a girl.  he quipped.

Me! Me? I'm a girl, right well, yes i am. technically, but that was the first time that i can think of anyone ever realizing that in fact, i am girl. When i was younger i was always taller then everyone else, broader and wider. i'm only the shorter person in a room full of men and even then i would have to be wearing sneakers in order for that to happen. I was never really one of the guys but the girls treated me like i could have been. i didn't like pink, i liked cars and captain planet. i liked skateboarding biology and karate. these weren't stereotypical girl activities and i grew up feeling  extra-ordinary for things about my body and my mindset i couldn't really control.

I didn't want to ruin it.

I didn't want him to see how happy his playful banter had just made me. I wanted him to say it again, in a chorus from the roof tops of the highest brownstone. I wanted to hear it echo down Bleecker; busting glass windows and bone structure... i am a girl, a  tall girl. a fat girl a black girl but a girl. I'm not perfect  but i, i just am and i wanted it validated. it now it is.