Listen to me well, there, Horatio, ol’ pal, while you dream of things in heaven and on earth, do you want to know how fucked-up I am?
The girl I love, my soul mate, yes, I said it: my soul mate, laugh all you want (I used to), she’s gay.
So, OK, I’m a student at CSU Fullerton, a Botany Major, and I’m waiting outside my Introduction to Shakespeare class, first day, when here she comes down the hallway. She’s wearing a snug cashmere sweater and a short skirt. She’s got long hair, long arms, long legs, and she’s beautiful. She has a pointed nose, a pointed chin, and her facial features are all sharp and defined.
“Like facets,” I’m thinking as I imagine how I would sketch her face.
She walks right on up to me and asks, “Shakespeare?”
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