A friend

Olivia really opened up to me, she sat cross legged on my bed and chattered away. Normally I would be annoyed as fuck, because I'm not much of a talker but...she was a good person. Whatever she did to get in here could not have been that bad...but I didn't ask. It wasn't the time to discuss that.

I know I'm kind of a hoe and I have a beautiful roommate but I decided that I really didn't want Olivia that way. She was my friend. It had been a long time since I had "just a friend" that wasn't my brother. Cleo was my only real friend and she was my long term girlfriend too. This was refreshing.

Olivia told me about her upbringing, she cried a little bit but I could tell homegirl was tough. Her dad had done some fucked up shit to her and her sister, she thinks that's why she's gay. I had heard of other people ending up that way before but I had never met one. I was gay... just because pussy > dick ya feel me? Can't relate, but I nodded along anyway. She appreciated my silence. Her sister ended up killing herself. I glanced at Olivia's wrists as she spoke, looking for scars. None. I don't think Olivia handled shit the same way her sister did. But I wondered how she reacted then..

Olivia started telling me about her ex,

"I don't think I'll ever be in love again. Ya know. Not like that. She was perfect for me, but I fucked it up, as usual. Ever been in love?" She asked me.

I needed to talk to someone that wasn't a fucking psychiatrist or nun. Someone that wouldn't judge me and convince me that all of this happened because I was gay.

So I told Olivia everything. I told her everything about Cleo and I from start to finish.

She sat in silence when I was done. I was crying. I was embarrassed that I was crying. She put her hand out and held mine, but not in a romantic way. She was trying to be supportive,

"Billie, she will wait for you. I can tell by everything you've said. I bet she loves you the same...she just was convinced that you needed help before you could be with her again," I fucking hoped so, "does she know where you are?"

I wasn't sure.

Olivia told me that we get 2 phones calls a day and they can even be long distance.

"Call her, at least tell here where you are...and check the visiting hour schedule first. You can get 2 visits a week...she can come here. If she's really that afraid of you the guards are there during the visit."

Olivia was either a really intelligent, sweet, amazing friend or a completely insane, lovesick fuck like me, but her suggestions were valid. I decided to call.