Never Been Kissed

If it seems too good to be true... it probably is.

I’m making memories. That’s currency too.

Anyway, Phillip isn't like that. From what I can see, Phillip has good judgement and he genuinely cares about me. And those might be rare qualities in seventeen-year-old boys these days. Not that I'm an expert. Although I am getting better at it.

It’s nice to hear him so self-aware. To know that the seismic waves of coming out are still rippling through him too. I thought I was alone in that. Everyone makes it seem like coming out is crossing the finish line and now you just get to parade around while wearing your medal. For me, it feels more like I’m still winded midmarathon.

I thought all these firsts came in a predetermined timeline, but relationships can’t chart a course over three acts like a screenplay. Life is so much messier than a story arc.

This is a strange yet divine kind of affection.

Words are cheap, Actions are priceless. If you don't like what's happening set something else into motion.

Don't mind her. She's not homophobic. She hates everyone equally.

The music only I can hear lets me know I'm right where I'm meant to be.

I know we're attracted to voices and pheromones and a plethora of other biological phenomena completely out of our control, but wouldn't it be nice if we heard a 90 decibel noise once and knew we were matched for life?

I'm destined to be his maybe. He's destined to be my almost.

Because I know for certain the cardboard version of himself he’s been asked for years to display in the storefront of his family life has been incinerated for good. He’s flesh and blood right now, flushed with freedom.

With only the stars as my witness, I kiss him again, deeper, and to my surprise, it doesn’t feel like scratching an act off a list or completing a quest: it feels like coming home.

Panicking, I launch a Google search and attempt to figure out how to unsend an email. An already-received email. An already-read email. An already replied-to email.

No worries? I’m 110 percent worries and angst and idiocy

Always being on the defensive. Thinking it’s easier to just let people project onto you rather than make any hasty declarations of your own.