Epilogue
Bee
L ove isn’t supposed to hurt like this. I’m certainly not supposed to feel like my heart is soaring and breaking and then crumbling into a thousand little pieces, but that’s exactly how I feel.
I have somehow made a terrible mistake.
I’ve somehow done it.
I stare at my book, at the tears falling on the pages, and I just know I can’t go back. Not to the library. Anywhere but there.
“Fuck you,” I say, staring at the words on the page. They’re swimming now, swirling around, and I can’t do anything to make the tears stop.
She broke my heart, and I don’t know what I’m supposed to do about it.
My phone rings, and I answer.
“Polly?” I ask. My dear friend is in love now. She’s happy, just like I wish I could be. “What is it? Is everything okay?”
“It’s okay,” she says.
“You’re calling instead of texting.” I sniffle. Maybe she doesn’t realize I’m crying.
“I just wanted to yap,” she says. “Are you busy?”
“No.”
“What are you doing this weekend?”
“Probably studying,” I say. Well, studying and nursing my wounds. I can’t believe I was rejected so terribly, and in such an embarrassing way.
When I decided to suck it up and ask the pretty librarian out, I thought she’d give me a chance. Maybe, I thought, maybe she’d say yes. After all, we’re both obviously queer. It’s not like I thought she was going to tell me she was straight or something like that, but she laughed at me.
She laughed at me, and she said I never had a chance with someone like her.
She laughed because I’m fat, because I’m thicker than her, because I’m...
Because I’m not enough, I guess.
“Oh, you should come out with me,” Polly says.
She starts talking about her weekend plans, about all of the wonderful things she wants to do, but I barely listen because I’m just trying so damn hard not to cry on the phone.
I like Polly a lot, but I don’t want her to know how much I’m hurting right now.
Somehow, this ache within me is here to stay. I just know it. I don’t want it to be, but it is. What I want is a little bit of freedom, a bit of flexibility.
What I want is for the world to feel a little more fair.
“I don’t know,” I say.
“Why not?”
“I just feel kind of tired,” I say.
“I can cover you,” Polly says quickly. “If money is an issue.”
“It’s not.” I work multiple jobs for rideshare companies in town. I’m more than capable of paying for my own night out.
“You should think about it,” she says.
We finish chatting, and I end the call. Then I stare at it for a long time. Maybe she’s right. Maybe I should not let one bad experience with love ruin me.
Maybe I should just go for it.
Or maybe I should call it a night.
Maybe I should let the librarian win.
After all, I’m just one girl.
The story continues in Lesbian Librarian, coming Fall 2025.