You are the cut that makes me hide my face

I once thought that I was in love with a girl.
I did. I really believed it.
However I was also really confused at the time and could not handle it. I was an emotional basketcase.
Her name was Linda (yes her real name, but since I am not writing her last name it doesn't really matter and no one can sue me. Right Sheila and Paul?) and she was in my first semester grade nine math class.
So a little backstory first off.
I was a weird kid, but at that point in high school things were pretty rough. I was the token faggot for grades 9, 10 and 11 (grade 12 and O.A.C.had their only girlie boy to pick on and abuse) and I was verbally harassed constantly. It was a barrage of harted thrown at me on a daily basis. Add to the mix the fact that I was overweight and it was enough to make me consider suicide on a regular basis. There is nothing complimentary in being called "Fat Faggot!" on a regular basis.
I also dressed creativley, had strange beliefs about culture and stuff and listened to music that only "girls" were supposed to listen to aka: Madonna and Paula Abdul - I would never admit to my secret love of Weird Al. Oops, too late.
So anyways there was this one girl Charlotte who I sort of liked, but she just did not have it for me. And then I decided I liked Linda, she was sort of sassy, had attitude and listened to me. She was also overweight which was attractive to me since it made me feel safe as I was also fat.
So Linda and I sort of starting dating or whatever you want to call it. We talked on the phone, we passed each other notes in class. This peaked the attention of several of the almost popular girls in our math class, who were also in my homeroom. I say that they were almost popular since they were considered cool, but were not the ulitmate cool, they were one step down. They hung out in the cafeteria, but they did not get to sit on the stage with the uber cool kids.
So these two girls began to take notice of my romance with Linda and on one day they decided to ask me what was going on. Now these two girls had never talked to me before in my life, they had let their male compatriarts call me names and had never defended me. Still they were only mean by association, but I still did not really like them.
On the morning that they approached me I had started to question my sexuality. I knew that my attraction to Linda was not as strong as my attraction to men. I did not think of woman in a sexual way. I did not gaze longily at the sunshine girl, it was always the sunshine boy (who we all know sucked in comparison most of the time). So I was trying to figure things out, and I was confused and in pain and distress and having these two "I can't believe it's not cool" girls come over to ask me what was going on with myself and Linda as I opened my locker was more than I could handle.
I let go, I broke down, I started crying and I told them to GO TO HELL! Mrs. Jones the business teacher heard me and scolded me for language, but I did not care. This was more than I could take.
The message that was sent to me that day was very clear. Up until this point I had been considered an outcast and secondary citizen since I was girlie and had no proof of not being gay. As soon as it was seen that I might not have been, my status was raised to the point that it was acceptable for the almost cool girls to talk to me. I was much more acceptable in social circles as a girlie straight guy, than I was as an unconfirmed girlie boy.
That really hurt me.
And I think that it clearly explains a lot of the reasons why I take it so hard when socity clearly lets me know that they have a problem with my physical demeanor.