Posted in Blog, Creative Writing, Pride Month 2022, Writing

Very Nearly In Love

I lost your number, like I thought I’d lost the monosexual monkey on my back,
but I’m back,
and so is she.
You don’t understand.
Nobody is going to understand.
I know that every teenager thinks their trials and tribulations are truly terrible and alarmingly unique,
but I really am the only… you know… in the village,
so for me, this really is a road that I have no choice to walk down alone,
and I didn’t pack sensible shoes.

I have to drop out of school,
which is a shame,
because it’s really the only thing I do successfully,
but there’s this girl and if I see her again,
I think I’ll bury myself in the warm waves of the river Thames,
because she is…

Her mastery over monopolising my mind by simply smiling from across the room is going to be my undoing.
I had all my defences in play this morning.
Rosary under the desk,
focusing my eyes on the plain, poorly painted ceiling,
picturing myself,
alone and wandering the village, vulnerable and violent, breaking my mother’s heart with this sickness,
but she just breezed past all of them,
by walking past me with a slight smile.
It wasn’t even a substantial smile,
just a slight smirk in the corner of her mouth,
and I was just…

You remember how we talked about lust?
Last time I told you I was too young to be in love,
but that was eleven and this is fourteen,
and I have been afforded a little maturity, you see, so now,
I am very nearly in love for the first time and I am freaking the fuck out.
I’m not quite there,
but left to my own devices, there’s no other direction for me to go.

What am I supposed to do?

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