Long whining about my stupid gay feelings.

You think I’m stupid. I KNOW that you look at me when you think I’m not paying attention. You think I’m blissfully unaware, just going about as usual. But on the inside i’m fucking screaming and swallowing my own fucking feelings. I’m trying to destroy how uncomfortable I feel because of your fucking pining. You think I don’t know that you still “love” me? I DO. I’m so fucking painfully aware of it, sometimes I want to just kill myself so that you can bury this idea that one day I’ll turn around and confess my love to you. I fucking smile and nod so that our friend group doesn’t fall apart, all this weight on me. Because I don’t return your feelings. I didn’t ask for this. And I know it fucking hurts for you. But I’m so tired of having to turn down friends and play the game and act like everything is oaky and nobody is hurt. 

I fucking burn down my own feelings, choke back how uncomfortable I am. I don’t tell my own friends that I’m scared to be left alone with you. 

Every time our D&D session ends I pack up so i can race out of there. But I know you need help so I fucking stay while everyone else leaves. And I can’t bring myself to tell MY FRIENDS that I need them to stay. Because I know the weight that bears down on me when we’re alone in that fucking room and I have to be the one who carries the emotional weight of it all. 

I want to scream at them to stay and help. Because they’re not helping carry your stuff. They’re helping me avoid the fucking embarrassment I feel choking me. I’ve got this fucking weight dragging me down and it feels so fucking stupid and childish. 

I’m a fucking PRO now at turning down friends. And I hate it. I hate every thing about it. Turning down strangers or people I hate? Easy. Trying to gently let someone down without “leading them on” is a fucking game of tiptoeing on thin ice. I get it, it fucking sucks to not have your feelings returned. But now I have to drag this bullshit around with me and I’m so tired. 

I want a relationship. But now I’m scared to date ANYBODY, because I don’t want you to fucking FEEL BAD. Do you know how angry that makes me? I should be furious, I shouldn’t fucking care. But you’re a damn ball and weight now and I hate it. I hate it I hate it I hate it. 

I’m not Helen of Troy. My face doesn’t launch a thousand ships. If it did I’d have my pick of the crop. I only have two or three ships, and when they’re captained by my own friends. Jesus. I’d trade everything I have to be Medusa, to turn men to stone and snuff out any attempt at friendship, or romance, or love.