She just casually threw in “I’m gay.”

We all kinda looked at her in shock, not sure if we heard her right.

We did.

She admitted she’s gay.

I was so. Fucking. Proud of her.

Last year, she was the gayest person I’d ever met. I had not ever known anyone more homo than her.

Little comments about girls,

Digs if you mentioned liking boys.

She’s the only person I’ve ever met who’s… straight-phobic?

Of course, if you pointed it out she would insist she was straight,

But I knew.

It was sooo obvious.

But then she went to a religious camp that she knew she would hate.

She complained for weeks about it, dreading it.

When I saw her after break,

She wouldn’t talk about it but she was different,

Not as loudly gay as before.

And I thought I’d lost her.

I thought my absurdly girl loving best friend was gone.

All the homophobic comments threw me off,

But behind every weird look was a quiet

“I’m not allowed to.”

This is the girl who asked our science teacher if he believes in evolution.

This was the girl who was raised to be straight, to be strongly religious, to be what her parents told her to be.

And she’s still the girl who used to read Boyfriends with me every bus ride,

Who admired girls and found boys disgusting,

Who cracked _all_ the gay jokes.

Even as I mourned the loss of my friend,

I knew she was still in there somewhere.

And today she admitted it.

I keep smiling thinking about it.

Plus one point for pride.