meant to be yours | d.w

53

"My life is a perfect graveyard of buried hopes"

Kristina Evans

1951

"You are such a pack rat. Dear god, what the hell is the purpose of collectible spoons?"

Eleanor was the kind who had to be neat and tidy or else she'd go insane. I, on the other hand, was the exact opposite. Moving in with Eleanor over time was something we both had to get used to, but we found a way to make it work.

I suppose I'm getting too ahead of myself. So I'll start from the beginning of how me and Eleanor even happened.

Eleanor Collins was the woman who introduced me to a way of loving I didn't know existed for so long. I have always been a persistent woman, and much to Eleanor's dismay at the time, she knew she couldn't get rid of me. We fell for each other from the beginning, but it took some time to realize it. You see, our relationship began in 1951. A time when homosexuality was a foreign concept that was labeled as dirty.

I want everyone whose even hearing my words to consider this period. Think about how it feels to have to hide who you are from the rest of the world. To put on a mask because if you don't, you just might die. It sounds drastic, but these times were indeed, drastic. It would be years before we would finally fight back at Stonewall, but as of right now, we were stuck hiding who we were. And we had to be careful.

As I admired her from afar, I was completely mesmerized. For whenever she would perform onstage, I would wait in her dressing room to watch her take off her pearls, powder, and would take her somewhere grand. Somewhere where we could both let loose for a moment in our lives.

All I knew that was most definitely true about her, was that I refused to let her go. Eleanor saw me as a nuisance at first; but even I knew she couldn't resist me the same way I couldn't resist her.

If she really didn't like me, she wouldn't have let me take her to a bar a few nights after we met.

"I don't know what it is about me that makes you not quit," Eleanor said, shaking her head as she took a sip of her drink.

Kristy's elbow was on the counter. "I would say why but I don't want to flatter you too much. I've already built up a reputation, with you, around town, with everyone."

Eleanor lightly laughed, her teeth flashing ever so slightly. "You know, you can be a pain in the ass Kristina, but I like your style."

"Kristy," Kristy blurted out of the blue. "Call me Kristy."

Her hand was now on the counter, dangerously close to Eleanor's. Eleanor glanced down, as if she wasn't sure what to think of this. She knew in her head, that Kristy was asking for more than just for her to call her that. The truth was, Eleanor was afraid. She had this persona of nothing but contempt and it seemed strange that she would believe otherwise. But really, Eleanor wasn't the woman people thought she was. Eleanor always knew she was a queer. Ever since she was a little girl.

It was just one of those things that she always knew. Of course she tried dating boys, she dated plenty of them. But the whole time, she knew she wasn't dating them for the sake of love, but for the sake of others. She had grown so used to hiding this aspect of her that she avoided love altogether. That is, until Kristina Evans walked into her life.

Kristina Evans was someone who refused to give up on her. It didn't make sense in the beginning that she cared so much about getting to know her. Usually, women just come and go when it comes to Eleanor. She never assumed they were like her for that could put her into deep trouble if it all went south. So when Kristina approached her, she wasn't sure what to think.