Take Me, Break Me

Part Two

        Kory sat uncomfortably in the wooden pews, far too early in the morning, listening to a man speak on the unholiness that was gay marriage. Most of Europe had legalized gay marriage, and this man, Father Anthony, could not express how upset he was at that fact. His voice reminded Kory of a drill sergeant rallying his troops, brandishing his bible like an M-16. Kory sat silently, running her slender fingers through the end of her tangled black locks as she felt a hand on her shoulder.

        “Enjoying the sermon?” Father Abrahms asked with a frail smile that wrinkled his face but didn’t touch his eyes.

        “Not in any sense of the word,” said Kory, looking around the pews at the people intently listening to Father Anthony’s alleged words of wisdom. “These people actually get off on this, don’t they?” Several of the people around her turned their heads at her words, and she felt their judgmental eyes piercing her back as she stood up.

        “Would you like to speak someplace else, dear?”

        “Yes please, I’m underdressed for this shit anyways.”

        Kory followed Father Abrahms out of the chapel and through the massive wooden doors of the church. The two sat on a bench just outside the church’s gardens and the Father pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one to Kory, which she took and lit off of the Father’s ancient-looking steel lighter. Neither of them said anything as they smoked for a few minutes.

        “I told her,” Kory finally said as she exhaled a plume of smoke, “I told her that I loved her and then I kissed her.”

        “How did she take it? The confession, I mean.”

        “I didn’t really give her time to respond before I kissed her.” Kory ashed the cigarette onto the pavement and watched the wind sweep it away, leaving no trace of its existence, briefly bringing Kory’s mind back to her grandmother.

        Father Abrahms followed her eyes to the ashes as they danced away in the wind. “Well what she says isn’t the only way she can respond to such a heavy statement. How did she look? Where was she looking? Tell me about that.”

        “She looked uncomfortable at first, and I could feel her tensing up. She was lying on my lap when I said it, so I wasn’t really looking at her eyes, but when she sat up she didn’t look too upset or anything. She looked into my eyes and her eyes looked happy, not uncomfortable like she started out.”

        “Thats good, Kory. I’m really happy for you.” He stopped to take a drag from his cigarette and make one of his famous pauses, and turned to look Kory in the eyes. “Tell me about the kiss.”

        “You sound like a perv.” Kory smiled at him, and he returned the smile, this time it reached his eyes. “It was better than I ever dreamed it could be. I mean, it started out kinda awkward and one-sided. I think I surprised her. But after that she started kissing me back.” 

        “You talked about it all afterwards, yeah?”

        “Yes,” Kory said in a breath of smoke. The frigid air made it hard to tell when the smoke ended and her breath began. “Mostly about stuff we already knew, but she decided she wanted to let her feelings for me grow in the presence of a relationship.” She stopped and smiled. “She slept in my bed last night.”

        “Is she still there?” said Father Abrahms in an alarmed tone. “It’s hardly eight in the morning, don’t tell me you just left her alone in your flat.”

        “No no. She went to church and then went home to get clothes and sort some things out for a party that we’re going to tonight.” 

        “Good.” He snuffed out his cigarette on the ground and flicked it into the street. “I’m very happy for you Kory, I really am. Sadly, though, I have to get back to work.” The two stood in unison and shook hands, which Kory felt was too formal of a departure considering the embrace they shared the last time. “It is always good talking to you dear. Enjoy your party tonight.”

        “You too, Father.” Kory paused, embarrassed. “I mean, not the party. Enjoy your night.”

        “That’s too bad, I thought that was an invitation!” With that, the Father went inside leaving Kory in the cold with the last few drags of her cigarette. The wind had stopped blowing, but for some reason Kory was chilled far more than before.

        “Baby, come on!” Michelle yelled through the bathroom door, “We’re going to be late! How long does it take to put on make-up?”

        “Calm down M! I’m done now. I don’t put on make-up very often, so I’m not as fast as you are!” Kory opened the door and looked at Michelle, who was wearing a blue dress with one strap that flowed down to her mid-calf. The dress hugged her form, but was not overly tight. Kory smiled. “How do I look?” she asked.

        “You look beautiful,” Michelle said, kissing Kory deeply on the lips, “but we are actually going to be late and my potential boss will be there and I can’t give off the wrong impression so let’s go!” Kory laughed at her rambling as Michelle took her hand and pulled her out of the apartment and into her car. Michelle drove uncomfortably fast, but her hand was still knotted with Kory’s, so Kory didn’t mind.

        As they pulled into a parking spot outside the party, Michelle let go of Kory’s hand and picked up her purse instead. Kory followed suit and exited the car, but only wanted to feel the warmth of their hands together again. As they entered the house, though it was more of a mansion, Kory stared in awe at the grandeur that was the entry room, which may have been larger than Kory’s entire flat. Once the two women found their way through to the center of the party, Michelle was bombarded by her friends and potential colleagues, and Kory stood awkwardly out of the way, pressing her fingernails into the seams of her handbag. A familiar young man in a tuxedo without the jacket walked by carrying a tray of drinks, and Kory grabbed one hastily, looking for some liquid courage for the social night ahead of her.

        “Kory? Kory, I didn’t expect to see you here!” the familiar man with the tray said.

        “Oh, Chris!” Kory feigned enthusiasm, though she was happy to see a familiar face, “No bus driving tonight?”

        “No ma’am! My uncle needed some help with his little party so I told him I would work for him.”

        “Little party? This is massive, Chris.” Kory took a sip of her drink and was startled to taste only apple juice.

        “All of the drinks are non-alcoholic,” Chris explained, in response to the obvious confusion on her face. “My uncle’s boss is a recovering alcoholic. But you didn’t hear that from me.” Chris leaned in and kissed her politely on the cheek, “I’ve got to get back to serving these wankers some apple juice.” He winked at her jokingly. “Have a great time. It was lovely seeing you.”

        “Bye Chris,” Kory said, and returned to standing aimlessly holding her drink in one hand and her bag in the other. All she could think of was how she could convince Michelle to let them leave before the crowd made Kory suffocate.

        “...and this is Kory!” Michelle turned the attention of several of her flock to Kory, whose face immediately matched the bright red dress she was wearing. At least Michelle is here, she thought, trying to calm herself down, You can handle whatever crowd comes your way as long as she is there to take your hand. “I met Kory my first year in college! Sorry, ‘university.’” Michelle made air quotes with her slender, manicured fingers. “I always forget that college is a different thing here. Anyways, Kory and I were roommates in our first year and since we had the same major we ended up staying friends for the rest of our school years! I really couldn’t ask for a better friend. You know, I should really introduce her to….” 

        Kory tuned her voice out as she felt something clench in the pit of her stomach. 

        Friend? The word echoed in her mind. Friend? Michelle… is that all you see me as? Kory felt dizzy. Michelle wouldn’t be taking her hand at all tonight, not in front of these people. Suddenly the crowd around her felt overwhelming, like walls that were closing in on her. Kory stumbled towards the door, but bumped her shoulder into a girl wearing an identical uniform as Chris was. The impact caused the girl to drop her tray, which was luckily empty, but the girl swore at Kory under her breath. Kory apologized, but felt like a ship bashing against the rocks at shore, its anchor lost into the sea.

        Finally, Kory made it outside into the crisp evening air. The cold bit into her exposed skin  and made her feel naked. Why are you wearing such revealing clothing? She asked herself, half expecting an answer from somewhere in the recesses of her mind. 

        Come on Kory! A voice replied, Go back in there and show them that a little crowd can’t stop us! Kory knew that voice. It was her own voice, but just a touch more confident. 

        Lucy?

        Yeah! Lucy confirmed. Now get back in there!

        I can’t. I came because Michelle wanted me to, but she doesn’t even want me anymore. I can’t breathe in there. I can’t go back in. I can’t… I… Kory closed her eyes and focused on her breathing. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. Good, she thought, I can breath out here. Ooh, that feels so good. In and out. In and out. I can handle this. This is a-okay. The world is going to stop spinning soon and I can stand up and find a bus home. Any second...

        Kory! Lucy pulled her back into the vertigo, and a wave of nausea hit her, Don’t you think about going home!

        Stop! Kory yelled in her mind. She pressed her hands against the sides of her head, Stop talking to me! 

        Kory!

        Stop!

        “Kory!”

        No!

        “Kory, are you okay?” She opened her eyes and saw Chris crouched down beside her, using his tray to balance his weight. The metallic tray reflected the headlights from a car passing by and shined it directly into Kory’s eyes. The sudden flash of light tipped Kory’s nausea over the edge and she collapsed to her side, spitting sick on the ground. “I’ll take that as a ‘no,’” Chris said as he rubbed her back and held her hair away from her face. “Why don’t I call you a taxi? You can go home and get some rest.”

        “Where’s Michelle?” said Kory in between heaves.

        “The American? She went into a meeting with my uncle’s boss. A sort of impromptu job interview. Why, was she your ride?”

        Friend?

        “No, well… yes she drove me here, but she’s my…” She stopped, the word friend still echoing in her mind, “she’s my friend.”

        “I’ll let her know you weren’t feeling well and you went back to your flat, yeah?” Chris was still rubbing her back, making her feel comforted. He was a good friend.

        Once Kory had stopped throwing up, Chris stood and called her a taxi. “Did you eat something bad?” Chris asked as they waited.

        “No…” Kory almost inaudibly whispered, “it wasn’t that. I don’t do crowds very well, and it just got to be too much.” She didn’t feel like telling him about Michelle; she didn’t want to open up to him like that. 

        Friend? 

        Chris was a good friend, but Kory still didn’t know how genuine he was. A short while later, the taxi arrived and Kory climbed in as Chris handed the driver a few pounds to take her home. He kissed her again on the cheek, made sure she was buckled in, and shut the door.

        The taxi ride passed by without a word said other than the location of her complex. When she arrived, Kory had began to feel much better, physically. Her mind was still reeling from Michelle’s words. They had been together for just over a week, ever since that first kiss, and she had seemed so happy with Kory. The night before, Michelle had passionately decided to not go back to her own flat, and instead she stayed with Kory in her bed. They made love for the first time that night. 

        Friend?

        Kory took a long shower to wash off the night. She hoped that maybe the memories would wash away too, but they remained present in her mind. Kory put on some pajamas, put her hair up, and took out her notebook and pen. She looked at the most recent entry, one that she had written that very morning. 

         ‘We made love last night for the first time. I showed my soul and she showed hers and they met with the such pleasure I wanted it to last forever. Sleep came easy to me, knowing she was beside me. Her presence makes me feel like nothing will ever happen to me. She rushed off to church this morning and told me she needed to sort some things out for some business party later today, but she would come back with some clothes. She means to stay here again tonight. I’m going to see Father Abrahms at his church. I feel like he deserves to know about us. --March 4^th 2012.’

        Kory read it over and over until she finally decided to shut the notebook without writing anything new, and she wandered into her bedroom to put the notebook away. She slid the notebook in between two others, one filled and the other empty, and she turned and faced the bed where she had the best night of her life. The sheets were a dark red and the pillows were black (the combination made her think of luxury) and a blonde hair rested peacefully on one of the pillows, wildly contrasting with the dark colors. Kory crawled on top of the unmade bed and rested her head where Michelle had the previous night. The smell was still strong enough to lure Kory into sleep.

        Friend?

        Kory awoke to the sound of keys jingling through the front door.

        “Baby?” Michelle called into the flat, “Are you in bed already? I wanted to ask how you were feeling.” She walked into the bedroom and found Kory sitting on the edge of her bed looking at the wall. “Oh you’re awake. Are you feeling better?”

        Friend?

        “Friend?” Kory spat as she turned to face her lover, “Is that all I am to you? Has the past week meant nothing?”

        “What are you talking about, Kor?” 

        “‘Oh, and this is Kory,’” Kory imitated, “‘We’re just friends. She doesn’t matter that much.” She stood and walked out of the room, her shoulder barely brushing past Michelle’s.

        “Kory!” Michelle yelled as she followed Kory into the kitchen. “Is that why you left? Because I said you were the best friend I could have ever hoped for?” Kory ignored her. “I said that because you are! They say that the person you love should also be your best friend.”

        “But that’s not all I am to you! You could have introduced me with your hand in mine and said ‘this is my girlfriend, Kory,’ but you didn’t. Because of that, I had an anxiety attack and got sick in front of a fucking mansion! They must think the worst of me now!”

        “You had an attack?” There was genuine concern in her voice. “Why didn’t you call me or send me a text? I would have been there for you.”

        “Chris was there for me. One of the servers sat down with me and held my hair and rubbed my back while I threw up.” She looked at Michelle, who was no longer in her high heel shoes and whose hair was tied up, no longer in blonde waves that previously cascaded down her shoulders. She was the most beautiful when she thought she was the least. Kory was still so angry, but her anger couldn’t do much, not while she looked upon the face of heaven. Kory was crying, but not visibly. She had silent tears falling down her face. “All because you couldn't call me what I am.” Michelle took Kory in her arms and held her as she started to sob. “I love you Michelle, and that made me feel like I’m still just your friend.”

        “Kory, no.” Michelle looked into Kory’s eyes and brushed away her tears. “I introduced you as my friend as a precaution. I need to get a job with these people and my window was closing, but I didn’t want to lose that opportunity just because one of the people in charge is against gays. Otherwise, I don’t give a shit about what other people think about us, or whether or not they know we’re together. All I need to know is that I love you and you love me. Then I’m happy.” 

        Kory looked up at Michelle again, this time without tears.

        “That’s the first time you’ve said that you love me,” Kory said, sniffling, “romantically I mean.”

        “I know sweetheart, and I mean it.”

        “I’m sorry I overreacted. Everything seemed so much worse in that crowd.”

        “It’s okay, Kor. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you with your anxiety. I know that must have been really scary.”

        What Kory remembered about the attack was scary, but what had returned to her in her dreams was terrifying. Why was I hearing Lucy talking to me? She thought, but immediately brushed off the thought, not wanting to dwell on it any longer. “So did you get a chance to speak to the big boss?”

        “I did!” Michelle said as she threw her hands in the air enthusiastically, the shoes in her hand nearly hitting the ceiling light. Kory loved how happy Michelle was all the time, and Kory was happy to know that Michelle was happy with her, but she still wanted that introduction with her hand in Michelle’s. “I got the job! I start next Monday.”

        Kory smiled, but she could feel it not reach her eyes, there was too much on her mind, “I am so proud of you, darling!” She took Michelle’s face in her hands and placed her lips on hers. Michelle kissed her back briefly, but sat down in the nearest chair. 

        “I want to meet Lucy.”

        Kory’s heart sank. The mention of Lucy brought back flooding memories of her delusions during her anxiety attack. “No baby. Lucy isn’t me, she’s just a tool I use at work. You don’t want to meet her.” She terrifies even me, Kory wanted to say, but instead, she put on another fake smile and said, “Besides, we should be celebrating.” Kory pulled Michelle into the bedroom, where they one again showed each other their souls.

Take Me, Break Me

Part One

        Kory expected the funeral to take place in a dark cemetery during the pouring rain with men in suits holding umbrellas for crying women in black dresses. Everyone would have been  around a large, dark pit and a gothic looking statue shaped like a large crucifix or an angel with her arms outspread. Much to Kory’s surprise, the cemetery was beautiful, aside from headstones, which were much like she imagined, only less gothic looking and obviously well taken care of. There were flowers everywhere, at the head of graves, in small gardens along the path, and planted throughout the luscious green grass. As her uncle read words off of a scrap of notebook paper, Kory’s mind wandered around the cemetery, which she began to think of as a garden of beauty as opposed to a place where they buried death. In her mind she walked along the path, stopping to smell the flowers and run barefoot through the grass so she could feel it in between her toes.

        “...and thank you, God, for letting her go in peace,” said Kory’s uncle. She returned to her body right in time to say with everyone else, “Amen.” 

        The word felt bitter in her mouth. Kory was never really close with her grandmother, ever since she brought home her first girlfriend for Christmas eve dinner in the eleventh grade. Her father’s side of the family were all very religious and nearly all of them learned to look past that to accept Kory as the girl she was, not just her sexuality. Her grandmother was never one of those people. In fact, her grandmother never got close to any of her grandchildren, despite traveling from one family to the next after her retirement fund ran out abnormally early. Kory was sad when she heard the news of her grandmother’s death, but only because of her blood ties and basic humanity.

        The service for her grandmother took place the day after the burial. Kory remained seated in the corner table throughout the entire service, silently sipping her cabernet. When the service was over, Kory’s cousin drove her back to the university they both attended. During the drive, the two hardly spoke, breaking the silence only briefly to make small talk about the classes they had in the morning, and again to bid each other goodbyes. 

        Upon arrival, she called her friend Michelle to see what she had missed in her classes for the day, and decided to finish her coursework over dinner with her. The two had been friends ever since they had lived together their freshman year. Kory didn’t know anyone at the school and Michelle dragged her everywhere to try to find her friends and, until Kory came out to her, a boyfriend. Due to Kory’s near crippling social anxiety, Michelle only succeeded in making Kory her best friend and her friends became Kory’s mere acquaintances. 

        They sat in silence in the dining hall, Kory on her laptop and Michelle reading a textbook, for a few hours, getting up occasionally to fill their coffee cups. Kory liked the silence, and after a day finding herself sitting in it repeatedly, she grew to prefer it, so she just sat and wrote her essay. The paper was for a class on the social implications of death, and despite her grandmother’s age when she died, Kory couldn’t help but think that her own death was something that she needed to begin worrying about. That night, the feeling gripped itself so tight onto her heart that she found herself crying into her pillow. 

        The next day went by without a second thought, which ironically made Kory take a proverbial double take. Someone old and wise died recently, she thought in the middle of her afternoon tea. She may have been rude and closed minded, but how can everything just keep going? Immediately she pulled out a notebook and pen and began writing. ‘How does Mother Earth just keep spinning when do many lives just stop every day? Not just grandmothers, but children and new mothers and lovers. How does she live with herself?’ She looked again at the few sentences and put away her notebook, shoved the pen in her pocket, took the remaining swig of her tea and left the café, leaving a pound note on the table for the waitress. 

        On the way home, Kory stopped by a corner store and bought a gallon of milk, a six pack of Guinness, and a card for her coworker’s birthday. She pulled up a list of the groceries that she needed, but the thought of such a routine task after a funeral made her feel sad and tired, so she closed her phone and put the beer and the card into her pack and carried the milk for the half mile walk home. Once she got home, Kory put her things away and stepped into the shower without opening her eyes until she was finished, both to avoid the sting of shampoo in her eyes and to produce the illusion of rest. Once she was dressed in the most flattering outfit she had, one she only wore to work, she began to apply her makeup, which was something she also only did for work.

        The bus ride to the pub where Kory worked was a half hour long, so she set a timer on her phone and napped peacefully to the feeling of the bus bouncing. When the timer went off, Kory let herself relax and fall into a state of confidence that she found buried deep inside herself. After starting work at the pub, Kory realized that there was no way she could keep it while being so socially guarded, so through practice, she generated a second personality that went by her middle name, which was Lucille, but she shortened it to Lucy, and was, essentially, a completely different person. The split between Kory’s two sides was not particularly amoebic, there was no definite fission or schism between Kory and Lucy, but rather like the isolation of just one of six sides of a cube. Lucy was part of Kory, and Kory isolated her for her work like an actor isolates their character from their full personality.

        “Lucy!” The bus driver shouted back to Kory, “we’ve arrived.”

        “Thanks for the ride, Phil,” Kory said while she disembarked from the bus.

        “What can I say, Luce? It’s only my job.”

        “Either way...” said Kory before she blew him a kiss and began walking into the pub.

        “Hey Lucy!” someone shouted to her as she walked in, “Did you remember my birthday? Conner totally forgot!”

        “You know Shaun, I never had time to go get you anything. But,” she added at the look of sadness on his face, “I told my friend to pick up a card when she went to the store. I just have to sign it.” She smiled flirtatiously and walked into the back to hang her things in her locker and retrieve her name tag, which said ‘Lucy’ in lavish cursive with hearts sandwiching the letters.

        When Kory was ‘Lucy’, she was the perfect bartender. She showed off while mixing drinks; she would toss bottles in the air and spin them in her palm before putting them away. Kory talked with the customers, who were mostly regulars, and most importantly, she flirted with every guy that came in and talked to every girl like she was their best friend. If Kory had never made ‘Lucy’ a reality, she would never have the confidence to do anything like that. Her coworkers would talk about her while she was socializing. “I love Lucy,” they would say, and everyone always replied, “Everyone loves Lucy.”

        During her shift, Lucy got seven phone numbers, two people asked her to marry them, and three elderly men said she reminded them of their granddaughters. Sometimes during especially busy shifts, girls would get into fights with their boyfriends after Kory flirted with them: they always flirted back. Occasionally she would get phone numbers from girls too, but she never kept them; she always discretely threw them out while the girls weren’t looking. One major difference between Kory and Lucy, was that Kory acted straight as Lucy. Not homophobic, she didn’t have a problem with girls hitting on her, but something about it made Lucy uncomfortable. Besides, Kory didn’t need phone numbers from girls. She only had eyes for Michelle.

        After she wiped down the tables and turned off the signs, Kory retrieved her things from her locker and bid everyone a good night. While she waited at the bus stop, she closed her eyes for a minute or so, letting herself rest and tricking her mind into thinking she was actually asleep. As the bus rolled up, she opened her eyes and her shoulders sagged and she hugged herself tightly as her confidence as Lucy faded away and the rest of Kory’s personality returned. She put her hair up into a tight ponytail and pulled her shirt up so she didn’t feel so exposed. Kory always felt so naked after acting so confident for so long.

        “Hey, Kory!” the bus driver said as he opened the door, letting her board.

        “Hey, Chris.” Kory replied. She had gotten to know the bus drivers that worked her route so well that she received friend requests from them over Facebook, which she always thought was strange, seeing as most of them were well into their sixties. Chris wasn’t one of those; he drove the bus part time to help pay his way through school. He was also the only guy that she could honestly say was her friend.

        Kory navigated her way down the narrow aisle and nearly sat in her typical seat before noticing an older man sitting there instead. She awkwardly apologized for almost sitting on him and placed herself in the row of chairs opposite to him, immediately hiding her bright red face. 

        “No worries,” said the man politely, “Did you just get off work? It’s very late for a girl as pretty as you to be riding the bus alone.”

        “Yeah, actually,” Kory said timidly as she looked up distrustfully at him, “But I only worry about being alone on the bus when someone brings up that it’s dangerous.”

        “I apologize if I made you uncomfortable, miss.” The man stuck out his hand to her, palm facing up, almost as if to say he had nothing to hide. “The name is Father Abrahms, Louis Abrahms. You can just call me Lou.”

        “You don’t look like a priest.”

        “You don’t look like a bartender,” Lou retorted.

        “How did you-”

        “Killarney’s Pub is the only place around here that’s open this late. You just said you just got off work.” The Father looked down at her lapel. “Besides, you’re still wearing your name tag.”

        “Oh, shit,” Kory said, looking down at the curly loop of the ‘y’ and the gaudy hearts, and looked up at him again, “I mean... Shoot.” She blushed again but the man just laughed. Not an uncomfortable laugh as so many people do while riding the bus, but a real laugh, from the stomach. For some reason it made Kory like the man. He was kind of creepy, and everything told Kory that she shouldn’t be talking to strange men, but he seemed nice, and she could feel some residual confidence bubbling up from her bout as Lucy. “Sorry, my name’s Kory. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Father.”

        “Kory?” he asked as she placed her hand in his still outstretched palm, “I figured your name was Lucy.”

        “No, that’s my middle name. It’s just what I go by at work to get around being socially awkward incompetent in situations that don’t involve myself and my cat.” As she said it, her face got bright again. “I don’t know why I just told you that. I don’t even have a cat.”

        “It’s totally fine. I tend to have that effect on people. In fact, that’s why I ride the busses this late at night; I find that this is the time when people really need someone to talk to.”

        “Seriously?” Kory pulled her jacket in tighter, “Are you just really selfless or are you building up your Karma points for the big man?”

Lou laughed again, this time louder. “You’re a funny one!” Kory didn’t mean it as a joke. “I guess a little of both. I feel that people need more selflessness in the world, but everyone decides they don’t have to be the one to do it because someone else will. Also, I know it’s what the Lord wants me to do, and as his servant, I do it.” He stopped for a second. “That wasn’t supposed to be a joke was it?”

        “Nope.”

        “Oh. See? Now we have a beginning of something you need to talk about.”

        “I don’t need to talk about this. I just hate organized religion.” She realized it sounded rude, but even as a devout atheist, she felt that lying to a priest, even by omission, was wrong.

        “And why is that?”

        “Because half of my family shunned me for nearly a year because ‘all lesbians are going to hell.’” She saw the look in his eyes change. “And now you’re judging me because of it.”

        “My dear, I am not the one who will be judging you for your ‘sins.’” The Father made air quotes with his fingers as he said the word. “The one who will doesn’t care who you crawl in bed with at night. He says to love, not to refuse love to anyone that’s a little different.” He paused again, most likely for dramatic effect, “Now I may be wrong, but I'm guessing it’s not your family that made you so resentful of organized religion. That explanation is just such a generic excuse for a lesbian woman, besides, you said ‘nearly a year,’ meaning they came to terms with it, yeah?”

        “Yeah.”

        “So what else is it?”

        Kory hesitated. She had never told anyone about the real reason except for her journal, which rarely spoke back. “My best friend is Catholic, and not like, ‘bugger off Galileo’ Catholic, but like the new kind that realizes that they’ve fucked up- I mean, screwed up in the past. She’s been really accepting of me being gay, I mean, she was weirded out for a little while after I first came out to her, but after that everything calmed down, you know?” She stopped talking and looked at the Father, who was still intently listening, like he wanted her to continue. “Ever since I met her - she was my roommate when we were first years - I had a crush on her. She, like, brought me places and made me meet new people, and she broke down these walls that I had built for myself and left me...” she trailed off. Lou was still listening, not making a single sound and not moving except to breathe, so she continued, “She made me feel all exposed and raw, but she was always there to show that, maybe, not everyone will exploit my insecurities.” Kory didn’t have to look up to know that he was still listening, and she knew she could leave it there, but she just kept talking. “My grandma died last week and ever since the funeral I couldn't shake this feeling that if I don’t tell her now, like, sweep her off her feet and tell her everything that I’ve kept bottled up soon, I’m gonna die without ever getting the chance to.” This time she looked up, finished, and made eye contact with the Father.

        Quietly, he said “You’re crying, dear.” Kory reached up and touched her face, which was dampened by tears that she didn’t realize existed, and laughed in surprise. “You know exactly what you have to do, Kory. You’re afraid of rejection, right?” he didn’t wait for her answer, “You’re probably also afraid that she won’t think of you the same after you say it, that she won’t accept you knowing that you have feelings for her, like it would ruin your friendship.” He moved his head so that his eyes matched hers. “You know that that won’t happen. She’s already accepted you for who you are, and she’s been fine with it for, what, two, three years? I doubt that it’s going to change.”

        “I know but-”

        “No.” he cut her off, “don’t make excuses. You could tell me, some random guy on the bus, so you can tell her.”

        “You’re a priest. You’re supposed to be accepting.”

        “I preach at a very conservative church; I know a lot of priests that would have been very angry at your supposed deviations.” He paused again, and Kory began to think he planned out each pause because they were timed so perfectly that they felt scripted. “Tell her as soon as you can.”

        “Kory!” Yelled Chris from the front of the bus, “This is your stop!”

        “Okay!” she yelled back, and turned back to the Father, “Thank you so much. I didn’t realize how much I needed to talk about this.” 

        The Father stood as she got out of her seat and offered her his hand, which Kory brushed aside as she hugged him. “It was really nice to meet you Kory. I wish you all the best of luck with your friend, and I know you won’t appreciate it as much as someone of the faith, but I will include you in my prayers.” He pushed her back and looked into her eyes before saying “Don’t put this off any longer. You deserve to be happy with who makes you happy.”

        The second Kory stepped into her flat, she pulled out her notebook and pen and scribbled out the words, ‘You deserve to be happy with who makes you happy. --Father Louis Abrahms, 22^nd of February 2012.’ She shoved the notebook back into her bag and wandered into her room where she collapsed onto her bed and fell asleep on top of the covers, fully clothed.

        “Kory! Kory, answer your freaking door!” Kory opened her eyes to the sight of smeared makeup on her newly cleaned pillow case and the sound of someone violently knocking on the door. “And your phone! Answer your phone too!” Slowly and groggily, Kory made her way to her front door, where upon opening it, she found Michelle in a pink tank top and calf length yoga pants. “Kor- oh. Hey girl! You look like shit, but it’s okay because I brought you cheesy romantic movies and carmel kettle corn to celebrate you sleeping through your one and only class today which you - like a total weirdo - scheduled for eight in the morning.” Kory wasn’t listening. She was admiring the sight of Michelle that rarely comes out; her blonde hair was tied back in a loose bun, her makeup was nowhere to be found, and she looked like she just came from the gym. Michelle was a student from America, California specifically, and like a true ‘Cali Girl,’ as she called herself, would never go out looking anything less than pure sexy, which she adamantly believed had nothing to do with yoga pants and had everything to do with winged eyeliner and red lip-gloss. Kory disagreed. In her eyes, Michelle would be gorgeous wearing a trash bag. “Kory? Are you listening?”

        “No,” she said weakly.

        “I just said I even found a lesbian romance for you too, in case all this hetero crap grosses you out.”

        “That sounds wonderful.” Kory smiled, a wide, genuine smile. “why don’t you set it up and I’ll take a shower.”

        “Deal.”

        Within minutes, Kory was cleaned, dressed also in yoga pants—a gift from Michelle along with a yoga mat and an instructional DVD that she never touched—and sitting on the couch watching bad romance movies with Michelle lying down using her thighs as a pillow. Moments like these were the ones where Kory was completely sure of her love for Michelle; the moments where they were both so exposed but so comfortable with each other.

        “Hey M?”

        “Yeah Kor?”

        “I love you.” Kory was so grateful that Michelle’s head was not resting on her chest, or anything that had more of a distinct pulse than her thigh. She could barely hear the movie over the sound of her own heart beating.

        “Awe, Kor, I love you too.”

        “No,” she said, stronger this time than the first.

        “Huh?” Michelle craned her neck so that she could look into Kory’s eyes, quizzical expression in tow. 

        “Not like, ‘awe I love you girl,’ I mean, like, ‘I’m in love with you, girl.’” As she said it, Kory could feel Michelle's jaw tense in discomfort. Kory didn't care, the Father’s advice would be worth something in the end. "I mean that I fall asleep thinking of you, I dream of you, and I wake up happy that I get to see you. I mean that when you speak, I watch your lips and try to imagine how they would feel against mine. I mean that, if you would have me, I would do everything in my power to make you the happiest wife in London. I have spent the last several years hiding my feelings from you. Every minute I spend with you feels like slow motion, and I can take in every moment with you, and commit every look on your face to memory, and when I feel like things are getting unbearable and speeding by, I can just close my eyes and think of you and everything becomes okay. You’re so comfortable with life and you radiate this confidence and you made me realize how much I can stand up to, even with my aversion to social things. You make everything bearable." Kory pushed Michelle's head off of her lap so that she sat upright next to her, and as she looked deep into Kory's eyes she could see her honesty and her beauty, exposed by the black and pink yoga pants and blue flannel shirt and her face clean of all of her make-up. "That is how I love you." 

        “Kory...”

        “Shut up,” Kory said as she leaned in and planted her lips firmly against Michelle’s. At first, the kiss was completely one sided, but Kory felt Michelle’s eyes close as she gently placed her hands on the sides of Kory’s face. It could have been seconds later, maybe a minute—Kory didn’t care, it could have been days and it wouldn't have mattered—she pulled away. After their lips parted, Michelle placed one last kiss right on the tip of her nose. In that moment, Kory knew. She knew with absolute certainty that this would be the girl that will break her soul and crush her like she were a few centimeters tall. Kory knew with everything that this couldn’t last. That thought acted as a fracture, a crack, in her heart, not quite a full break, but when that moment would inevitably come, when that fracture inevitably became a fissure, Kory knew she would cry so hard her tears would snuff out the stars like candles on a birthday cake. She didn’t care.

        Take me, break me, she thought, she may have said it, she didn’t know, whatever you do, I’m yours.