On being the only ones in the world
We're in the back seat, it's pitch dark…kind of necking up a storm. All of a sudden we discover the women in the front were hanging their chins over the backs of their seats watching us. And they go, "I knew it, I knew it. I knew we weren't the only ones."
Pearl and I are the only lesbians in the world. I don't even know that I knew the word lesbian.
And neither one of us knew… I didn't think she knew, nor did I know, that there were any such — that what we were. This was something that we were. Special. But nobody else in the world was like us.
We had a brief relationship, which of course, at that time, I figured WOW — we were the only two people in the world.
It was just between the two of us. We never discussed it, even with friends.
I had a girlfriend, and we didn't know anybody. Typical story, we didn't know anybody like us existed, but we were enjoying each other so much.
It was wonderful to realize I wasn't the only one in the world, that there wasn't something wrong with me.
I thought acting on my desires would just scare the wits out of the other person and she would be very angry, but it was a desire that I had to live with and be quiet about. Of course, I couldn't talk to anyone about it.