hitbyafridge

[hitbyafridge]

Untitled

I was never really important to anyone. Everyone who knew me only knew a part of me or rumours about me.

They say they can help me but, how can they if all they tell me is that I need God.

Is blind faith really the answer?

I've tried and struggled.

I've done everything to reach success.

I've done all I can to find love.

But all my efforts amount to nothing.

My dreams mean nothing Infront of my parents.

My emotions mean nothing to anyone who decides to handle my heart because they always leave it shattered into fragments I can't collect.

My will is nothing to an omnipotent being, bound to a contract that promises eternal life.

I do all these things for you.

I refuse to call myself a people pleaser but that's all I do.

I please people at the expense of my happiness and thoughts.

I'm an afterthought to everyone.

If I don't say something they all disappear.

"I love you" is only uttered if my parents are proud of me.

I can't control my brain, my thoughts.

It's a mess I wish I could contain.

Moving through the world I feel all their eyes on me.

As if they're judging me, watching me, inspecting me.

I can't get this inkling feeling that I should please everyone at the cost of my own happiness.

I close my eyes and breathe in, taking in the scent of the atmosphere as the cold rain comes in contact with my skin.

When I open my eyes I realise that it was my fault. Oscar was right, I'm nothing but a "yes ma'am" person but I lashed out at him and had to make a private conversation public.

I sigh and take out my phone from the pocket, not caring whether it gets damaged or not.

Face id doesn't work as it is dark so I have to manually input my password, which I stupidly set as Ossie's birthday.

A tear rolls down my face as I realise how stupid I was to let go of the only person who took me in for me.

He healed my heart just so that I could, in the end, break it.

I sniffle trying to hold back tears so that I don't drop to the ground crying because of the mess I made.

I look at my notifications, seeing messages from my sister, my parents and Rune, all checking in to see if I was ok after storming off at dinner because they couldn't stop mentioning his name.

I take a deep breath and reply:

I'm fine, don't worry 😊 I just needed some fresh air. I felt light headed so I took a walk in the park brb😊

Before I send the message I stare at it, taking in the blatant lie that they'll obviously notice but will shrug it off as being a teenager.

I hit send and let the cold consume me.

....

Taking a deep breath, I remember the day he came over to my house to help me with homework. I remember how we played gay chicken and the way he positioned himself on my crotch, his curls partly covering his face, whilst holding my hands above my head getting me hard easily. I remember with clarity the day he said he'd help me figure out my sexuality.

The day he kissed me with his soft lips and how in that moment, I knew that I wanted to be with him.

I sigh feeling disappointed with myself.

I almost jump when I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket.

I quickly pull out with an expectant heart but it sinks when I see the message being from my mom and not Oscar.

I check the time before putting it back in my pocket, it's 9: 30, and decide to go back home.

....

I walk with my head low and my wet hoodie over my head. The rain has calmed down to a drizzle but it doesn't help my mood.

I walk slowly, casually hoping to get a message from him.

Whilst stuck in my thoughts I bump into someone else who is significantly shorter than me going to what I assume is the park.

I'm about to apologise when I see the head covered in curls.

My voice is stuck in my throat and my cheeks slowly heat up as the realisation hits me.

He looks up at me, also about to apologise but he stops when he also takes in my presence.

Now we're just staring at each other again.

Like that day I confessed my thoughts to him.

[hitbyafridge]

I couldn't find have said it better

The most frustrating experience as a writer is having a clear vision in your mind of the story you want to tell but being too afraid to put pen to paper for fear of failing to do the story justice. I’m so scared that my actual execution will fail to meet my expectations that I’m paralysed to even start.

[hitbyafridge]

If you could stay.

If you stay, I'll show you something different

It won't be magical or exciting

It won't be like entering cloud 9

But it'll be honest

Take my hand let's run away

Let's forget reality exists

Were everything is a competition

And nothing is true.

We may stay together for a short while

But it'll be the realest love

You've ever felt

[hitbyafridge]

Who wants to read a Xiao xiaoven angst fanfic?