Life Plans

I just got back from being a Counselor in Training at a two day camp for kids. It was nice to be with people who still thought the world was good.
Who still thought the world was full with magic.
Who still believed in love and trust.
Who still felt pure and simple.
Who were still happy.

There was so much happiness there. Concentrated happy.
I didn't handle it very well.
At first the happiness was superficially contagious. But then it became suffocating.
The contagious happiness felt fake--as happiness always does. At some point, though, it penetrated the wall of fakeness. But instead of then becoming real, it intruded, infiltrated, suffocated me.

The slight hope of the fake happy becoming a real happy was silenced as the hands around my neck gripped tighter.


Flyer told me he loved me.
One night I told him I loved him back. I said that because I thought we were going to have sex and I didn't want to have sex with someone I didn't love.
But we didn't.
A few days later I took it back. I want to love him. I want to love a lot of people. I don't know how.

I have no intention of having sex with him or anyone for a very, very long time. Things started getting sexual between us a few nights, and I think that happened because I felt that he was going to get bored and either leave or push me to do more.
That is not anything near what Flyer would ever do--I know that from my deepest truths--but my instincts force me to act oppositely, due to my only experience with guys and sex being what they were.

All I ever want to do is sleep next to him. If I could do one thing and one thing only for the rest of my life, I would sleep next to him.

I'm not sure if that is beautiful or tragic.

--Beaskie