Copyright © 2015-2018 Stannie. All Rights Reserved.
I hate it, I hate everything. I love my mother, I really do, but I hate it when I’m home. I’ve had enough fights, no wait, I’ve HEARD enough fights for the rest of my life. I notice I’m crying, but I don’t mind. If only Tyde knew how much I hate him.
And love him.
I think that’s the worst part. A human being shouldn’t be able to feel this much hate for someone and still love him. Hell, I’m sure I AM not able to, and still I’m forced to. When we were younger, it was mainly my brother and me who were fighting. Most fights were about little things, mostly about him never being able to leave me alone. Whenever I wasn’t in my own room, he always was around me, picking at me, touching me. Hitting me, not very hard, but frequently enough to annoy me. Maybe even worse was the fact he was always interfering with me. Whatever I did, he was next to me, ready to disagree with me.
Those were very small things, for example when I was sitting on the sofa, he would come to me and start yelling I was destroying the sofa with my way of sitting on it. You know, those kind of things that make you think: what the hell do you care. The worst part was; he never shut up. Even when I was in my room, he would barge in and start complaining again. We actually have a rule to not get into each other’s room, but he didn’t mind rules.
There have been days he made me so angry, I grabbed a knife and chased him down. Luckily he was faster than I was, because I don’t know what would’ve happened if he wasn’t. I don’t even want to know.
I find myself walking to my dad’s house, even if it’s more than an hour walk. It’s getting dark outside, and when I finally reach the house, I take a seat on my usual bench. It eases me to be able to watch the house and the uncommon appearances of family members in the kitchen. I notice a car on the driveway I didn’t see before, so I assume that’s my dad’s.
I’ve been here for an half an hour, when my phone suddenly rings. It automatically makes me proud I’ve been able to keep this machine charged for over a week.
“Hey Adam.” It’s Sam. “Your mother called, asking me if you were with me.”
“Why didn’t she call me?” I ask.
“I bet she thought you wouldn’t have had your phone with ya,” Sam laughs.
“Okay, plus 1 to Samantha Brooklyn. So, what did you say?”
“The truth, of course.” She sounds happy. “I’m not gonna cover for you if I don’t even know if I have to and if so, what for.”
It makes me a little happier to only hear Sam’s voice. “You didn’t have to cover for me, Sam, but thank you for even considering it. I just went for a walk, but I think I got a little lost.”
“Where are you? I can ask my dad to come pick you up?”
“I don’t know exactly, and I don’t see a street name. You know what, I’ll look around for the street name and I’ll text you the address. I’d like your dad to come pick me up.”
“Okay, I’ll ask him.” And with that, the call ends. Of course I knew the address I am at, but I don’t want to hear my mother hearing about me being here. I don’t know if she knows my father’s address, but let’s not take any risks. I walk a few streets away and text Sam the street name.
Ten minutes later her dad comes to pick me up. “Hey Adam,” he greets me. “You’ve had an extremely long walk.”
“Yeah, Mr Brooklyn.”
“Get in,” he says. “So, something happened at home?” he asks while starting the car.
“Not really, I just needed some fresh air.” I know Mr Brooklyn wants to ask why I walked all the way here, but he doesn’t. And for that, I’m thankful.
He asks me if I want to be dropped off at home or come with him to Sam. Normally I don’t feel a lot for visiting others while I can be at home writing posts, but I really don’t want to get home yet. I bet the fight is over with, my mother probably went to bed already, but I really need some distraction. So I told Sam’s dad I wanted to spend my evening at theirs.
That’s why I’m walking to her room right now. Her door is already open and Sam in lying on her bed. “Hey, Sam,” I greet her and walk into her room.
“Hey, Addy! I didn’t expect you to come to my house. I told my dad to give you a choice to come here, but I thought you wanted to go home like you always do.”
“No, I really don’t feel like it now.” Sam is sits up straight and gestures me to have a seat next to her.
“A fight between your mother and Tyde again?” she asks.
I nod. I really should find out why I tell her this much. For some reason she really knows a lot about me. If I don’t pay attention, I’ll someday tell her about my blog. That’ll be the end of everything, no one is ever allowed to know I’m the author.
“You can always come to my place straight away, you know. You don’t have to wander to the end of the world to be welcome here.”
“I know, Sam. Thank you. It’s not that big of a deal, though, I can always shut myself into my room. I just wanted some time to be alone. But really, thank you, you’re a real friend.”
Sam smiles. “You know, this is the first time I ever heard you call someone your friend. I’m glad it’s me.”
And she’s right again. I didn’t even mean to call her a friend, I just did. This doesn’t change a thing though, she is still an other, just one who I seem to like a little better.
“Even though you’re not the best talker, I like having you over.” She says. “We should do this more often.”
“I think I agree,” I admit, finally being totally honest. I really like being here lately, since our little incident, suddenly everything is very relaxed between us. I think it’s because Sam liked me since she met me, but never dared to tell me.
Out of sudden she leans in on me and presses her lips on mine. Automatically I open my lips, while wishing I didn’t. Our tongues spend almost a minute dancing around each other when I decide to gently push her away, not wanting to have it feel abrupt or something. She smiles at me, and I smile back.
“And that, we should do more often as well,” she says with a blush on her cheeks.
I’m speechless. Why do I like to kiss her? What’s wrong with me? “I…” and I sigh.
“Shhh,” she shushes me, placing a finger on my lips. “I know what you want to say, and I don’t mind. I don’t mind not being able to have a relationship with you. No, of course I do mind. I spend really long figuring out what I want, and what you want. You told me you didn’t feel like having something serious, but you did tell me you liked the kiss. I can tell you still like it,” she smiles and I can’t help but to blush myself. “So I asked myself, if kissing you feels this good, not only good to myself, but more like the feeling that kissing you is meant to happen. It feels good, just like yin and yang belong together. I know I’m rambling, sorry. But, to make a long story short, if I like kissing you and you like kissing me, why not do it?” She tries to smile, but I can see she is desperate to hear my respond. But I can’t, I’m still speechless. “Without obligations,” she adds.
I keep looking her in the eyes. I see doubt sparkling in them and I really want to take them away, but my brain is just busy trying to process what just happened.
“So?” she asks.
By way of an answer I kiss her again, this time we keep it up for more than two minutes.
“God,” she moans, “you’re such a good kisser.”
I really shouldn’t do this, I know, but I can’t help myself. Maybe she is right, though, this does feels good, so what is wrong about it. I’m not giving her the impression anything more will come out of this. I lay against her, just enjoying the moment. She puts an arm around me and starts to caress me.
Is this love? Is this what it feels like to be in a relationship, with a girl? I never even considered the fact I maybe like girls. It’s like my brain wants to show me he disagrees, because I suddenly see flashes of Yuri. I almost hear him, even though I don’t know his voice. Right after that I can see Codey, followed by Seth. Why can’t I just enjoy the moment of being with a girl?
“What’s wrong?” Sam asks.
I try to turn my head without getting out of her grip.
“Out of a sudden you tensed up,” she explains.
“I was just thinking about some things.”
Now I do fully turn around, gently pushing her arms off my shoulders. I look at her and I feel my stomach shrink. I just kissed her. I kissed Sam, I kissed that girl. It makes me feel sick. Is this what gay people in denial feel like. “Sam, I like this,” I say and spread my arms as to illustrate what I’m talking about. “I like us… but please tell me I don’t have to suddenly tell you everything I think or feel?”
She almost looks sad. “No, of course you don’t have to.” She stops talking, but I can see she’s about to tell me more. “I only hoped if we would get this close, maybe you would finally open up to me.”
That’s all we say about it, only silence is left. I lay back into Sam’s hold again and enjoy the attention she is giving me.
“It’s late,” Sam says 30 minutes later. “What are you going to do?”
Although I haven’t spent my evenings like this often, I automatically assumed I was going to go home soon. Now, however, I feel like Sam wants me to stay. I like the joy I feel inside while being caressed, but I don’t feel like staying. I’ll be 100 percent honest: I fear I’ll maybe do things I’ll surely regret. So I shake my head. “Mom will probably be worried. Plus, I still have some things I gotta take care of.”
If she is disappointed, she sure knows how to hide it. Instead she asks: “Are you going be at school tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I say and I get out of her hold. I immediately miss being in her arms, but I don’t want to show that to Sam. I quickly kiss her on her cheek and then I walk away. I can feel she is following my every movement until I get out of her sight. Instantly regret sneak upon me. I feel horrible for liking to be with Sam, both because I don’t want to like being with her and because I don’t want her to feel like I want to be with her. I know I’m destroying the friendship I didn’t even want to have in the first place.
Believe me, that feels terrible.
It’s already half past twelve when I arrive home. Both my brother and my mom are asleep. I silently go to my room and start my computer. I really need to see Yuri again, only to get rid of the regret I feel. When I look at Yuri, I don’t feel as bad as I do now, because I know I was the victim. He took advantage of my trust.
Could that be the reason I don’t trust other people anymore?
I know it’s too late and I should probably go to bed if I want to go to school tomorrow, but I just need to write a blogpost again. No, I don’t really need to write one again, but I think I should post one. I don’t want my subscribers to think I’m not thinking about them anymore.
I consider posting Seth’s text, but I quickly decide against it. He didn’t seem to be very happy today and I don’t want to disappoint him. I remember I forgot to write him back, though.
“Hey anonymous reader,
I’m sorry I didn’t write you back earlier, but I’ve been very busy. I’d like to ask you why you don’t want me to post it. I think it’s really good and I’m sure everyone will like it. You’ve got some talent, sir.
Hopefully you’ll reconsider,
I choose not to write another post tonight and go to bed. That night I dream about Seth.