“Have you ever cheated on anyone?”
“.. Yes. I won’t hide it.”
“Would you do it again?”
“Hell no, Domino!”
“Should you ever do it again?”
“Could you tell me about it if it happens? I promise I won’t get mad. I just would like to know.”
“.. Yes, my dear.”
And with that, he signs off for the night and once again I’m left alone. Tomorrow will be the last day. Last day of suffering through my own demise from a ‘withdrawal’ of my precious need. I’ve been going on and on about how much I love him, how much I need him, how much I wish to have him in my arms and kiss him to explore. But this second to last day have brought an unknown side of me out. I don’t know why, but all day today I’ve been asking myself these three questions;
Should we be together since I’m still technically ‘growing’?
Could we be able to keep it a secret for anotherÂ few years?
Would we survive that long?
These questions rang in my head like a fire alarm. Not the ones in homes with the constant beeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep, but the ones in Firestations, the ringing ones. Like alarm clocks going off countless times at once. I review each question individually in my head. We CAN keep it secret for anotherÂ few years. We WILL survive that long. But should we really be together? Should we paused our young romance until I’m old enough, and then resume it? Like a video game? If we paused our love for that long, would we lose our romance for one another? Would we cave in from missing one another’s touch and love? He is able to keep his demise and depression hidden so well, I’m jealous of him.Â I wish I could hide mine as well as him. It makes me wonder. What does he truly see in me?
Does he really think I’m a special boy, who’s misunderstood and needs at least one true love in his life? Does he see me as the ‘autistic, amazing, artist of awesome’ that he’s called me? What the hell does he see in me, do I have to pretend to be someone else just to get a real statement from him? Or is what he saying true? This paranoia is poison, he tells me one night. You’re stronger than it, don’t let it get to you, he continues. Easier said than done, while he’s doing dilly-who-knows, I was laying in my bed practically crying because the paranoia had gotten so bad. I was convinced that night that people were watching me through my window. My blinds are shut. I live on the 3rd floor of an apartment building. My window is closed, and half of the window is covered in ducktape because of previous paranoia leading me to cover it.
But I look at the clock. ‘He’d’ be going to bed soon, and I want to let ‘him’Â know about the paranoia, and ask for help. So I call up a friend (the ‘he’ guy). I tell him my issue. He’s been with me countless times, and he now will have my back for anything, even if it’s while I’m in a suicidal rampage. He will do what’s best for me at the time of talk.Â He always has. I’ve known my friend for a couple years now, before I even met my man. So I’m able to ask my friend for anything.
” Hey, buddy? I need your help.”
“What’s up Dom?”
“I need you to askÂ [boyfriend] about the week with [boyfriend’s ‘public’ girlfriend]. Find out anything you can, about me, about the week, anything. You think you can do that?”
“I’ve done it before Dom, I can do it again. He comes back day after tomorrow, right?”
“Yep. Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”
“No prob Dom. Talk to you in the morning.Â Paz,Â amigo.”
“You too. Bye.”
And done. My friend’s done this before. He’s gotten a little dirt on my man, but it was so little it didn’t matter. So now, I can only wait. for what may shatter my heart to pieces.