Juicy Secrets Forbidden Tales of Lesbian Love

Miserable Happiness, the Oxymoron of My Life

By Cheryl Taggert 

If you need help keeping up with the characters, you may go here.

I spent the rest of the weekend in my room. I called Marie late Saturday afternoon and filled her in on how badly things went at Deanna’s. She had asked me to call as soon as I got home, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk about it, so I put it off.

I was, however, in the mood to mope about it.

I mostly lay in bed and alternated between crying and listening to songs Deanna and I liked. I began to wonder what would become of me. I was in love with one girl but loved another enough to be lovesick over her as well.

As the weekend from Hell lingered on, I began to wonder about my feelings for both Marie and Deanna. Maybe I was in love with both of them? Maybe I had just grown so used to having Deanna around that I took the relationship for granted.

No. It wasn’t that, I told myself. I would not accept that I could be in love with more than one person at a time.

But maybe that was exactly what was going on here. Maybe my stupid thirteen-year-old brain hadn’t figured it out and I’d hurt one of the most important people in my life.

I was totally confused. Life had thrown me a curve ball, and I’d swung at the damn thing three times to strike out on one pitch.

Maybe I was just an idiot.

I began to accept that as fact. I knew I was smart in school work, except for math, but in life and relationships, I was scoring a humongous F.

By Sunday afternoon, I was so depressed I lay naked in bed and watched old romance movies. I didn’t touch myself or anything like that. My libido was at zero, but I watched Sleepless in Seattle three times, as well as You’ve Got Mail. Yes, I’m a big fan of Ms. Ryan and masturbate to visions of her often. But this time I was watching for the romantic parts, not to imagine her naked.

Marie called three times that day, but each time I had little to say except that I was definitely in love with her. She asked me if maybe I was in love with Deanna too. She assured me that would be okay with her. She just wanted me to be happy again.

I loved her for that, too, and it made me smile for a moment for the first time since I’d broken Deanna’s heart.

The last time she called me, she said, “Why don’t you call Deanna? I’m sure she’s about as happy as you are. Try to talk it out with her.”

“I tried,” I said.

“And?”

“She wouldn’t speak to me.” That brought on fresh tears, and Marie tried her best to soothe my soul with assurances it would be okay, though how it would go from this living Hell to okay was beyond any of our imaginations. All I knew was I missed my friend. My lover. Perhaps not on the romantic scale of Marie in my heart, but my lover nonetheless.

She had been a solid part of my life for so long. Now that she was gone from my life, I felt as if I was trying to walk a straight line in one of those inflatable bouncy rooms you find at carnivals. Nothing seemed solid anymore.

I fell asleep Sunday night crying. I dreaded the next day at school.

*******

Of course, the big news the next morning was that Spidey had been fired. The word had gotten around that he and Ms. Bradshaw had been caught doing it in his office. I hadn’t told anyone, so I figured it must have been Marie. When I saw her that morning, I asked if she had, and she just got a glint in her eye and grinned.

I still wasn’t to the grinning stage yet. I could barely even smile, in fact.

Okay, I couldn’t really do that either.

When Deanna arrived at school, she seemed to make it a point to walk right past me without looking at me at all, as if I weren’t even there.

Of course, I knew she saw me, but the ignoring hurt. I was standing there with Marie, who watched Deanna’s approach while glancing back and forth at the two of us as she walked up. I know she was wondering what we would say to each other, but it turned out we said nothing.

Then Deanna walked up to another girl and started a conversation. When I realized who it was, I thought I might throw up. I was literally sick to my stomach.

Of all the girls Deanna could have chosen to speak to instead of me, this one hurt the most.

She was talking to Clare, who seemed surprised Deanna had stopped to chat with her. I didn’t blame Clare. The last time the two had spoken, it had not been very pleasant at all.

My tears welled up, and I could see that Deanna saw the effect this was having on me.

I ran up the steps into the building and went straight to the office, telling them I was sick and needed to go home. My mom wasn’t home yet, so they had to wait to call her. I could tell everyone thought it odd that I’d come to school only to want to go immediately home, but I didn’t care.

When they finally got Mom on the phone, I talked to her. When I started crying, she said, “I wondered if this was too soon. I’ll be right there.”

Marie was sad that I was hurting this much, and she told me she was gonna “kick the living shit” out of Deanna. I told her no. I made her promise not to do anything.

“I hurt her enough. You don’t have to make it worse.”

“But she’s hurting you now,” she said.

“My mom says turnabout is fair play. I deserve it.”

Still, Marie glared at Deanna while I waited outside for my mom’s return to school to get me.

When I got in the car the tears started all over again and I told Mom what had happened.

“She’s just still hurting, baby. Deanna isn’t the type to keep hurting you. She’ll realize how bad what she’s done is.”

I said that I doubted it.

She looked at me and said, “Okay, this has gone far enough. We’re going to end this one way or another.”

With that, she made a right at the next light instead of a left, which was the way she should have turned to go home.

The turn she’d made would take us to Deanna’s.

“Mom, no. I don’t want to go there.”

“Believe me, this is the only way to solve this. Ignoring the problem isn’t going to change anything.”

When we got to Deanna’s, we got out of the car and went up and rang the doorbell. Well, Mom rang the doorbell. I was here against my will. Jessie answered the door, looking only mildly surprised we were there.

She took one look at me and said, “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry this has gone this far.”

Mom told her what had happened at school, ending with, “They love each other. Been best friends since they were nine. We have to make them talk to each other.”

“I agree,” Jessie said. “This place was like a funeral parlor this weekend. Too many more days like that, and I may have to kill her.”

Mom laughed at Jessie’s small joke. I didn’t. Nothing about this was worth smiling over, much less laughing.

They talked for another minute or so and Jessie said, “You two have a seat in the living room. I’ll be right back. I’m checking Deanna out of school and we’re all going to talk. She won’t learn anything there today anyway with her mind on Cheryl.”

We sat and said nothing. In fact, neither of us spoke until the door opened again and Jessie walked in, admonishing Deanna for being so cruel to me at school that morning. Apparently, this had been the main topic on their ride home from school.

“She was cruel to me first,” Deanna was saying, the tears she was shedding evident in her voice.

Jessie answered, “No, she wasn’t. She was actually honest with you and expected your support. You know. That thing real friends do for each other, even when it hurts.”

Then, realizing we may be able to hear them, Deanna said more softly, “But, Mom, I love her so much. How could she not know that?”

My heart seemed to break and mend, all at the same time. She hadn’t said loved, using the past tense. She had said love. Of course, she still loves me. Of course, she was just trying to make me jealous by approaching my number one enemy and striking up a conversation. And of course, I loved her. No, I thought, I’m IN love with her.

I stood and took a few tentative steps toward the foyer, where Deanna still could not see me.

“Deanna?” I said, softly and tenderly, the tears just as evident in my voice.

Sudden silence erupted in the foyer. She took a step into the large archway that led to the living room and looked at me. There was fear in her eyes. And uncertainty. And love. She was still crying.

I could see she was wanting me to speak first, so I did.

“I love you.” It was a simple statement of fact. An admission. A request.

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face, and said, “Not like that. Not like you love Marie.”

“You’re right,” I said, and her face began to crumble. Then I quickly added, “I love you more.”

She seemed to freeze. Her mouth seemed like that of a statue, slightly open in amazement.

Yes, we loved each other, and we were in love with each other. Somewhere along the path that stretched back for a third of our lifetimes, I had fallen in love with her. We had grown so comfortable with each other that I didn’t recognize it. What I had just told her was true. I loved her more than I loved Marie because ours was a comfortable love that would clearly last a lifetime, no matter who else we fell in love with when we finally became adults.

It turned out that I can be in love with more than one person at a time. Deanna was proof of that.

We ran to each other and embraced. Our lips met, and we kissed like two lovers who hadn’t seen each other in what had felt like an eternity. And in a way that was exactly what had happened.

Finally, I leaned back. It was important she understand what I was going to say.

“Deanna, I love Marie too. My love for her was more sudden, like an explosion, but I still love her. You’re going to have to accept that.”

Deanna stood there, thinking about this. I could see she wasn’t thrilled, but at least she wasn’t telling me to get the fuck out of her house.

“Deanna?” It was Jessie.

“Hmm?” Deanna said, looking over at her mother.

“Don’t you think that the mere fact that Cheryl fell into such passionate love with Marie says a lot about what kind of person Marie is?”

I felt like running over to Jessie and hugging her. Deanna looked at me.

Then she smiled.

“I guess so,” she said.

“We can all three spend time together,” I said, wagging my eyebrows suggestively. That got a giggle from Deanna, the first I’d heard in what felt like forever.

I looked at Mom then at Jessie. “Is Deanna well enough now for sex?” I asked.

Jessie smiled. “I suppose so,” she said. “But it is a school day, you know. And both of you seem to be feeling much better.”

We both stared at Jessie in disbelief. School? We must have looked awfully funny because she burst into laughter.

“Oh! You two! The look on–! Priceless!” Jessie said, trying to control herself.

I looked at Mom. “Mom?”

“Go enjoy yourselves,” she said. Then looking at Jessie, she added. “We might be able to find something interesting to do as well.”

Jessie said, “Well, I was going to do the grocery shopping, but I suppose that can wait.”

Taking the hand of the girl I had loved for so long and so easily that I had mistaken it for friendship, I pulled her toward the foyer and the stairs that led to her room.

“Don’t disturb us, please. We’re on our honeymoon,” I said.

The two moms chuckled at that, but Deanna just beamed.

Arriving at Deanna’s room, I shut the door behind us and turned to her.

“Let’s never fight like that again, okay? I was so torn up!” I said to her, tears forming once again, but these were tears of relief.

“Me too. When Mom told me you were on the phone yesterday, I so wanted to talk to you, but I just couldn’t. I was afraid of what we might say to each other. I was afraid we would say something that couldn’t be taken back.”

I laughed through my tears. “What? ‘Get the fuck out of my house’ doesn’t qualify for that?”

She joined my laughter with her own. It was the world’s most beautiful symphony. “No. I was afraid I would say something really stupid, like I never wanted to see you again.”

“I’ll never hurt you again,” I said. Of course, it wasn’t an accurate statement, even though I was being honest. People who love each other always hurt each other, but as long as they could get past the hurt and remain together, everything would be okay.

I thought about those words. Elizabeth, Jessie, Mom, and even Marie had said those exact words to me over the past few days. Everything will be okay.

Thank goodness they were right.

I took Deanna in my arms and we lay on her bed. We took our time making love. It must have taken at least a half hour just to get each other’s clothes off.

We kissed.

We fondled.

We licked.

We breathed the other in.

We even chewed.

We made love. Just the way two people in love are supposed to.

Continue on to Chapter 34

Dear Readers,

In case you’re wondering why I’ve been including so much romance in my writing, I actually had to wonder myself. Then I realized my first anniversary to my lovely wife and partner, Lisa, was coming up. I knew that, of course, but I found myself wondering for about three seconds why I was writing so much about love and being IN love in this series. It amazed me that I was subconsciously feeling the coming special date and it was transferring into my writing.

For those who’ve lost track, June 22nd is our anniversary. As I write this, it is 12:04 A.M. Eastern Time, June 3rd. I’m not sure when this will end up posting (chapter 29 posted yesterday and I am way ahead on my writing), but in any case, if you are enjoying the romantic aspects of this story, even the problems associated with them, you can thank my lovely Lisa. She is more important to me today than she was a year ago.

And even though the “Story Cheryl” is going through some adolescent problems that are also learning experiences for her, she knows the meaning and value of love. That is something I wish for all of you, and it’s the reason so many of my characters love their partners in many ways.

Thank you for reading. I am having SO MUCH fun with this story! I must be honest and tell you I wasn’t having this much fun when I finished chapter 16, which was the place I stopped writing it some time ago, prior to taking it up again not that long ago now.

Take care and keep coming back for more… and coming!  😛

Cheryl and Lisa