The boundary between fans and besties is quite murky.
I would spend the school days lost in the fantasy about the girls I would eventually fall when I was a closeted baby-dyke living in Westport, CT
Girls had been frequently leggy and swaggy and high and olive-skinned, forever clad in destroyed black colored thin jeans, by having a mind filled with acid-blonde-hair dropping into faded-blue-eyes and a face defined by cheekbones therefore sharp they might destroy a guy.
I might imagine just just exactly what our relationship would seem like: we might be power babes whom slayed in our careers that are enviable time and hung down in dimly-lit whiskey pubs having a bevy of celebrity dykes when the sun goes down. […]