……

“I loved you… I always have. Since the moment our eyes met there was a soft curiosity that sparked in the way movies could only dream to capture. Your giggle, laugh, chuckle. I loved it. I wanted more of it. I wanted to make you laugh so I could selfishly enjoy your fondness of me and keep you around. We spent the last five years together, and the distance never mattered.”

His eyes fell to the ground.

“I loved you: the way we dreamt of running away on a train, the way we thought of lying in the woods, the way we were friends before anything else. That night…”

His voice choked.

“That night, when we kissed. It… it meant so much to me. You ran away crying and avoided me. I thought there was something wrong with my breath, my presence… me. All of me. That moment you turned from me, I thought I’d never see you again.”

I couldn’t look up.

He continued, “I just… do you remember? Do you remember our first conversation? Do yoi remember how scared we both used to be. How we dreamt of finding someone ‘just like us’ and here we were all along? Do you remember?”

“I… I do.”

“So what is it then?” His voice strained, “We dreamt we could be normal, that we could be supported, that we could find someone the sacrifice is worth.”

“I… I didn’t. I wasn’t ready,” I began.

He continued, “We’ve been best friends five years. You’ve felt it since the start just as I. You’re scared and I get it. I was too.”

“I didn’t want to lose my family!” I yelled.

“You would not have, and to hell with them if they had cut you off!” He protested. “I loved you. Every sleep over. Everytime we got closer. Everytime you laughed. Everytime your hand grazed mine, or your lips caught my eye, or when we would sit together— the moments you cried because you were so confused, and it hurt me so bad because I just wanted to take all that pain off of you and throw it out and hug you and—“

“I get it, I do, I just…”

“And, Will, please. I love you so much. I know we aren’t typical. I know your family wants you to be with a girl. I know thats not what you see for yourself. I love you. And I’m not ashamed anymore. You’re worth any love, judgement, whatever it so happens to be… I just… I know you aren’t ready. I know you can’t love me in the same capacity. I know. And it hurts so bad because its all I think about, all I want, and I miss you all the time. I miss our jokes, the way we viewed the world, our package deal, our norm.”

He crumbled down, sobbing. I extended a fair hand. It hurt to see him like this. He’s right, we’ve been bestfriends this whole time. And though I could be with him, I just… I don’t know. He’s certain and I’m just… watching him hurt. Why couldn’t we just… stay friends?