Denial.

I lay in my bed, my eyes glaring at the ceiling, almost burning holes in it as my room was filled with Danny’s soft snores. Danny, I guess you can say, is my best friend. I hang out with him the most and I confide in him the most, though I know that I can’t tell him about my deepest secret’s because he’s openly admitted on numerous occasions how the “faggots in the world ruin everything.” I don’t really know how to explain our bond…

He fascinates me, but infuriates me all at once. He truly is the best friend a guy could ask for. He’d talk about anything with me and analyze all my problems from every possible situation and angel before he gives me what he honestly and truly believes is the best answer and option that his mind could come up with. If I simply called him or texted him, he’d come running over if the text gave him the slightest worry. He really truly cared for me, but all of that would be out of the window if he knew about my sexuality, which completely and utterly disgusts me.

He’s the type of friend that I am solely reliant on to partially keep me sane now. However, in the future, starting the second high school ends, I’d probably never want anything to do with him. I plan on moving on to bigger and better things and most importantly, I plan on coming out. It’s a shame that our years of hanging out, having sleep over’s, and partying until the sun comes up is going to be a waste on him all because I was secretly attracted to men instead of women. We’re in the here and the now though, and besides that oneHUGE flaw, I really do care for my best friends’ feelings.

However, as much as I care for his, mine are a bit more important, and I’ve truly been all over the place. Nothing seems to go right for me.

I mean, I should be ecstatic right? I should be jumping through fields, spinning around as my arms flail wildly around my head, the brightest smile that I could muster placed on my lips the entire time. But no, I’m the exact opposite. I’m a loser who sits in his bed at night, getting next to no sleep as he stares at his ceiling, wishing that he could turn back time and just knock on a damn door instead of barging in. Dillon’s gay, but it just makes the fact that I can’t ever have him hit me that much harder.

I’d rather go back to just a few days ago where I would silently obsess about him every second of every day, even more so when we were actually spending time together. Back then, I could totally imagine that everything was fine even though my mind was plagued by constant turmoil. Now, not only has the turmoil that plagues my mind doubled tenfold, but it makes the reality that I truly can’t have him that much worse. He’s there for my taking, but I can’t bring myself to reach out, wrap my arms around those cute little biceps of his, and pull him right into my embrace so that he is mine and only mine.

But he constant fear of what would happen if my family finds out consumes me whole, controlling my life. I feel as if I’m not a free person anymore, just a person imprisoned and forced to hide behind a façade because of the ideals of the people that surround him and the family he was born into. I live in fear of being cut off of everything that I love like Uncle Mikey. If that were to happen, I’d rather it be my decision because they don’t support people with my lifestyle instead of being disowned, ridiculed, and kicked out without a second glance.

However, the knowledge that Dillon is gay just adds fuel to my fantasies, painting them even more vividly within the confines of my complicated mind. It makes everything seem real instead of a yearning and a wish that I wanted so selfishly and greedily. It makes the fact that we truly could be together even more real… but even then, there’s still things holding me back.

There’s the obvious worry that Dillon just doesn’t reciprocate the intense feelings that I have for him. It’s a common fact among any high school that just because you like someone of any gender, it doesn’t mean that they like you back. This entireobsession thing could be misconstrued. The truth probably is that he doesn’t feel the same for me. Just because he is gay doesn’t mean that I am the man that he loves. There’s plenty of other men in the school and the world, and they’re much more deserving of him than I could ever be.

Besides the obvious fear that my feelings aren’t reciprocated, the other thing that is simply ruining me is the fact that I’m a huge coward. I could always dare to attempt a double or maybe even a triple play in baseball. I could sprint my heart out in football, knowing that there’s at least two huge men running after me with the mere goal of squishing me whole and attempting to rip the oddly shaped football from my grasp. I could do so many things, but I can’t show the man that I love the real me. It would ruin me all too quickly and I’m still not prepared for my future. I have to know what’s to come. I have to be safe. I can’t let my family ruin my life before it ever began. I simply can’t.

I refuse.

My eyes rolled as my lips set into a stern line. I just… can’t imagine what it would be like to have my life ruined before it ever began because of the stupid and irrational beliefs of my family and those that surround me. And with that thought permanently set in my mind, I rolled over, allowing sleep to finally overtake me. It’s been days since I’ve gotten a good sleep, and though this night probably wouldn’t be any different, it at least comes with a sense of satisfaction and the fact that my worries have been put to ease.

*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.*.

I rubbed my eyes angrily as I got to my locker, trying to get the blur to finally disappear. I had gotten more sleep then I had for the past few nights, but it was still far less than I wish I had received. My lack of sleep because of my worries is starting to get me and effect me academically and athletically. Both my grades and performance levels in my classes and sports are dropping, slowly ruining me and my reputation as a good student and devoted athlete.This entire situation just ruins me.

I scarcely heard my name called from the end of the hallway, but I thought nothing of it since it sounded so soft, so unsure. I went back to swapping the books in my locker, freezing when the most delicate of fingers wrapped around my bicep, sparks shooting from the feminine fingertips though I knew from instinct that this hand belonged to no female, but a wonderful boy that is absolutely adorable and will go so far in life.

“Hey, Jordan,” he whispered softly, uncertainly. I did my best to not allow the fact that my name on his tongue just makes me want to smile show. I didn’t want to give him false hope just to snatch it away out of nowhere.

“Dillon,” I greeted in what I hoped was a mature and business like voice. I need to separate myself from him before I do something that I’ll majorly regret.

“How are you?” He asked me, tugging on my sleeve gently so that I could look at his face, shadowed with that adorably long black hair of his. All I could see was his childlike chin and his plump and kissable lips set in a pout, a pout that he doesn’t deserve to be wearing. He’s been worrying about me… I put that pout there…

“Good,” I lied through my teeth, trying to draw my line of vision away from him since I just wanted to wrap my arms around his relatively tiny frame and promise that everything will get better as time goes on. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you though,” I whispered before I could stop myself. What I was doing was best.Or at least I keep telling myself that.

“Of course,” he muttered, looking up at me expectantly, completely oblivious as to how I’m probably about to single-handedly sabotage our friendship by ruining the one tradition that we constantly made sure to follow.

I took a deep breath before speaking, “I think that we should put an end to move night,” I murmured. “My school work has been really piling up on top of my practices and I barely have any time to relax anymore,” I elaborated, though it was all a lie. Sure, school’s been adding on more work, but I still have plenty of time to relax.

“Oh,” Dillon said softly. “If that’s what you wish, Jordan,” he muttered, his eyebrows knitting together and he looked to the tiled floor to trace the outline of his van-clad feet.

“Maybe it’ll start up again in the future,” I tacked on, knowing that it was an empty statement. It was obvious that he thought the same.

“Maybe,” he muttered before he turned on his heel and quickly scurried away from me, his head down as his skateboard hung dutifully in his hand.

If I spend less time with him it will be easier to get over him and move on. Right…?