I remember a boy breaking my heart once. He tossed it across the apartment courtyard like a Frisbee. It hit the hardness of the concrete, shattering it into several pieces. "Whoops, sorry," He laughed to himself. I was not happy. This was the only heart I had, the only piece of jewelry I ever owned. I was four-years-old and didn't care that it was a plastic heart-shaped piece of junk. I stood feeling belittled by his behavior as he bolted the other direction revealing that it was his time to leave. "Don't tell my mom, ok?" He said with a mischievous smile peeling across his face. He acted as if I really didn't care about the piece of plastic. He stood smiling to himself for a moment before taking off. It was weird and made me think that boys will always be childish in their ways no matter what age they were. I slowly turned around and walked back to my aunt's apartment building. Her husband was standing outside the door, waiting. "What happened to your necklace?" He asked. "It broke," I said burying my head into my chest. "Who broke it?" His face was full of concern. "The boy broke it, he broke my heart," I said pointing over to the neighbor boy's apartment building. We walked over to the broken bits and pieces confirming that indeed someone broke my heart. "Next time when someone asks for something that belongs to you, don't give it to them just because they want it." I let this sink into my four-year-old brain. Never give someone something that is yours just because they want it. Since then, I never really liked boys. They all seemed to teasingly want to break my heart. But then I found out that girls do the same. I was always fond of female characters from my favorite stories and T.V. shows but I never thought that would leak over into puberty and into my young adult years. When I finally got fed up with the feeling I wasn't just fond other girls I decided to tell my mother that I didn't just like girls, I loved them. I also told her my teacher happened to have the same sexual preference. My mom responded with a smile and bought my teacher a bottle of wine which I wished was for me. I didn't care if I was only in the 6th grade, having a taste of wine seemed to match the moment of growing up. Besides, I just confessed a deep feeling I had for other females. This feeling spun in my heart like a spider's web trying to catch the next meal, except this time love was the prey. As soon as I got into High School I spotted her during the first week of my sophomore year. There was something about her that lit up my heart and I hoped it wasn't just because she happened to be attractive. I hoped that whatever I was feeling wasn't about her looks but was something beneath the surface that resonated with my spiritual being. I had a difficult time trying to place my finger on what this feeling about this girl was. All that seemed to surface when searching for the answer from within was the desire to be loved without the sameness of our physiques getting in the way that a human could love one another. In my mind I wasn't in love but rather I wanted to love another woman without the mixed perceptions of society's protocol on how love should be. I understood by this time in my life when you choose to put your feelings out in the open to someone, it is possible that they might not accept those feelings you have for them. This was how society was and despite that knowledge, I did it anyway, I put my feelings out there for someone to see. We had the same art class together. The art table she sat at was just her and this other guy, and that was all. It was just her and this one dude that wanted to be the president one day. I sat at another table with people from my school year. The following year I told her my feelings through a letter. The paper had a background that made up the colors of the rainbow, which was ironic to the symbolism of the LGBT gay rights flag. I was nervous and could feel my heart palpitate in the concave of my chest as I handed her the letter. She thanked me with the soft tone of her voice, but right after I handed her that letter, it was as though I saw doubt twinkle in her eyes. It was the day of a pep assembly. Her cheerleading peers performed and that's when it happened. She did an awesome acrobatic spin and landed perfectly on her feet. She then glanced up at me and then smiled gently. It was like she really did like me but she also liked guys. That's when I broke down. She played me like a game and it broke my heart. I felt ashamed for liking someone else that was the same sex as me. I felt apart from everyone else too. I had a nomadic life as a high school girl and spent my time trying to figure out who I really was on the inside. It was tough and I wish I could go back through at time portal just to tell myself, "It's okay, you can be gay. No really, it's okay. Don't be ashamed of who you are."