Once again, like every day I’m in this class, I find myself repulsed.
The two boys in the back will not stop with their touching. Again. They caress. They stroke. They squeeze and…oh, good Lord.
One of the guys just touched his boyfriend’s crotch. Could you get any more inappropriate?
The irony is that those very intimate people were screaming at each other in the cafeteria yesterday. The drama was splashed onto the internet too, with both boys switching their relationship statuses to “it’s complicated”.
Well, it doesn’t look complicated now.
But when I think of relationships, naturally I think of him. He feels my stare, and looks at me. He smiles. He’s beautiful, as always. Even though he always protests he doesn’t look good, I find myself so, so unbelievably lucky to find a boy who’s beautiful inside and out.
“You okay?” he mouths at me. I nod, feeling the grin on my face hurt my cheeks.
We’re not listed as being in a relationship with each other on Facebook. It’s not as though people would have a problem with a second gay couple. I’d just feel so much like an attention whore. Love should be cherished, not put on display.
We’ve never fought at a level where we scream at each other. We never touch each other intimately in public. The biggest fight we had was when my dad had died, and I’d refused to open up to him. Eventually, after a 24-hour period, I found myself in his arms, laughing/crying as I recounted fond memories.
The other couple has been together for two months. We’ve been together two years. And I still love him as much as I did the day we met each other.
The bell rings. He stops at my desk as I’m packing up. He’s taking my backpack, carrying my load as well as his own. We have the next class together. We do not hold hands. We just cherish the feeling of being with each other.
They kiss as soon as they get out of the classroom.
We walk away from the classroom.
And I let the smile on my face say it all.
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