Violets are Beautiful

            “I love you.”

            I heard the phrase so many times, but never stopped to think about what it meant until she admitted that she meant it.

            I smiled at her, “You’re so cute.”

            I still remember when I was to be unsure of what to say to her.

            “Thanks, boo.”

I met Violet when I trained her at the restaurant where we work. During our first shift together, she would watch me with intent eyes, hang on to every word I said, and did every task I demonstrated with great precision. Every so often, she would say phrases like, “we are going to be best friends,” “you’re so awesome,” and a lighthearted “I love you”; I disregarded the latter and assumed she was very friendly and anxious to start a new job.

About a month after Violet began working with me, we began to start to spend time together outside of work. She recently purchased an apartment with Peyton, who also works with us, so the three of us would play card, board, and video games there or go out to dinner and a movie after long days of work.

One night, while Violet and Peyton were drinking alcohol, Violet openly admitted her love for me.

“You’re so nice, Anna,” she said. “Can you just hold my hand?”

I placed my hand in front of her and she grasped onto it.

“I cannot wait until gay marriage is legal in Michigan! Then I can finally marry you.”

Although I am a tomboy, I had never questioned my sexuality before Violet told me this. She is one of the nicest people I have ever come across and, unlike any boys, interested in me. If I like girls, it would be easier to spend time with them without my parents pestering me about going on dates and being cautious; they would not even have to know about the potential girls I date unless any of my relationships with them became serious. However, my mom believes non-heterosexuals choose to be attracted to their own sex, both sexes, no sex, or any other possibility. Maybe I am bisexual due to my half-tomboy and half-girly persona, which could deceive my mother too.

Since that evening, I have constantly questioned my choice in sexuality. I never thought about girls in the same way as boys, but I was starting to see them in a new light. I began to value the beauty of women from near and far, captivated by their grace and elegance. Girls who wore little to no makeup captured by eye as often as boys with toned muscles.

As my suppressed desires surfaced over the final months of that year, I tried to come up with the perfect way to tell Violet and Peyton that I was also a bisexual.  I could make a statement, tell Violet I loved her back, or crack a joke, the possibilities were endless. Fortunate for me, one of our fellow coworkers planned on holding a New Year’s Eve party at his house for all of us restaurant workers to attend which conceived the perfect plan in my mind.

Violet, Peyton, and I worked the night shift of New Year’s Eve, discussing how much fun it would be to spend more time with all of our coworkers outside of work. Violet and Peyton did not bring a change of clothes to work, so we carpooled to their apartment in order for all of us to change our clothes and freshen up for the party.

As Violet drove us to the party, she asked me the question I needed in order to make my plan work.

“I know you’re straight, but can we kiss each other’s cheeks at midnight?”

“Of course!” I told her, smiling in the dark backseat of her car.

We arrived at the party around 11:30 P.M. to the younger crowd of our friends playing charades. The three of us quickly joined in their game until the countdown to midnight began.

At that point, Violet and I were sitting on a shagged rug in the green living room. She was holding my hand and her legs were placed over mine as everyone in the house started to countdown from ten.

Her red, curly hair was shimmering in the glow of the lights from the ceiling.

“Nine!”

Her gorgeous, green eyes were staring through a pair of black and white framed glasses.

“Eight!”

My heart began to beat faster with every second closer to the New Year.

“Seven!”

Her legs began to curl upwards as she drew in closer to me.

“Six!”

I could not believe these feelings took over twenty years to discover.

“Five!”

Her fingers stayed interlaced with mine, although her grip tightened.

“Four!”

What would my mother say if she found out?

“Three!”

What would my coworkers think?

“Two!”

I looked at Violet as she started to get closer to me and knew I was not simply caving into her desires for me. I had finally realized my true sexuality and I was finally ready to accept and embrace it.

“One!”

Violet was about to kiss my cheek with her eyes closed shut, but I turned my face just in time to capture her lips on top of mine as everyone else in the house screamed, “Happy New Year!”