It Starts as a Cell...And Kills You as Cancer

This hurts. There's nothing more than I can say about this excepts this hurts. I can't possibly understand why I happen to be hurting so much right now, it just doesn't make any sense. And the sad thing is, I know what would cure me. I know what would make me feel so much better and make the rest of my semester simply heaven. But I know that I can't do what I want. I know that I can't just go up to him and just say what I feel. Because if I do that, it will be the end. I simply cannot do what it says in my head that I must. But I'm not going to lie.

It's been like an ache. It's been like a dull, and painless ache a few weeks back when he agreed to do my show with me, and ever since then, its been growing. And no in fact, its worse than that. It's not an ache. It's a been a sharp stabbing pain ever since the day he told me that he cracked his ribs playing soccer. It's been stabbing me ever since, and ever since then I just cannot seem to rid him of my mind, and ever since now the feeling has just been growing, and growing ever since. It starts like a cell, a brainless feeling little cell that was the fruit of our meeting over the summer. And then it reproduced and multiplied into a friendship that was the cultivation of several hours of work and play through various different stages. Finally, it has metasised into something that I cannot even begin to describe. And the only thing I know in my mind is...I want him. And only him. He's the only thing that will cure what I'm feeling now.



I don't even want to do anything. I just want to touch him. Just a handshake will suffice, but if I had my choice, I would just want to hold him. Just hold him until the sun came up and we had to break to go to class (which I would purposely miss even if it was a mid-term). I just want to hold him as I go to sleep. And it's now that I can fully understand why certain people like they can't go to sleep alone at night. Because at night, it's the worse. Its different in the daytime when everyone is moving about, and you can find things to keep your mind wondering and occupied and busy and unfocused on the things that can truly get you off track. But at night, that's the worse. When the night comes, and everyone's asleep, and the only luxury you have is the ability to think to yourself, and think about where you are, and what you're doing, and why you're not where you should be, and what you're doing wrong, and you think about everything that everyone's ever done to you, and why you feel like you should be further along, and you don't know what's wrong, and what you're doing wrong in the first place. But that's just the truth. I simply want him. In his simple simplicity, and nothing more. Just to hold him and feel his warmth underneath my fingertips, and just to lay my head down and listen to him breathing slowly, in and out, in and out, as I fall asleep happy and completely content. And I wouldn't care that we couldn't tell anyone. I don't care that the world doesn't approve, and I don't care that his parents and my parents don't agree, I don't care that his team would shun him and take him out, I don't care that his teachers don't find it acceptable, I don't even give a fuck about his roommates, and what they have to say on the subject. None of it matters. Fifteen years from now, it won't even matter. And in truth, fuck fifteen years from now. Give me the fucking now. That's all that matters. And that's the truth. And every night, just like so many others who smoke those damn cigarettes and kill themselves, I'll be dying by cancer too. But of a completely different kind.

Forgive me, E.