Troubles

Gerard is running his hand through my hair. It tickles. It's odd how my hair can tickle, but it does.

I'm lying with my back on his chest with his one arm snaked around me, his hand holding mine on my chest. How we wounded up lying like this is a long story. First, when we stopped kissing, Gerard pulled me into a hug. He then leaned back and lied down on the bed, and since he was still holding me, I naturally followed. I lied with my head on his upper stomach and felt him breathe for some time, until he had to go to the bathroom. When he came back, he moved his pillows, sat on the bed and leaned against the wall. He told me to come closer. I did.

And now, we lie like this.

I don't know why I find the story behind us lying like this interesting; I don't know why I feel the need to repeat it. Maybe it's a control thing. Or maybe I'm scared of not knowing where this is going, so I keep thinking about what has happened so far.

My other hand is picking at his sweatpants. I feel restless, but in a good way. I feel like this is all I want to do for the rest of the day – just never get up and keep picking the fluffs off Gerard's sweats.

But still, I can't help but think about this. Us lying like this would be completely out of the question yesterday. Heck, even two hours ago, it would've been...unbelievable, really. I would never have believed it if someone had told me that I'd be lying with Gerard like this.

So what does this mean? Are we not friends anymore?

“Do you think this is clever?” I ask in a low, low voice. I don't wanna show him that I'm afraid of this. I want him to tell me his real opinion about this and not let it be affected by what I think. And feel.

“What do you mean?”
What do I mean?
I mean, this must mean that we're...dating. Or something like it. Are we dating? Wouldn't that ruin our friendship? What would the other guys say?

“Well, we're kinda-” I cut myself off briefly, trying to find the best way to phrase this;
“together, I guess.” That wasn't the best way.
“I mean, what are we?”

I need to shut up. I don't know what I mean. I barely even know how I feel. I don't even quite know why I'm lying in Gerard's arms. His kiss felt comforting and warming and it was unknowingly what I needed, and his hug and cuddle was and is that way too, but...is it really what I want? Is it even something that I actually need, or is it all just something I've made up to make me forget about how I have nowhere to go and no one left to love or be loved by?

“What do you want us to be?”
Why does he ask me that! I don't need more questions in my head. I have no idea whether I see Gerard as just a friend or someone who I could possibly see as a boyfriend.

I've always sorta known that I might possibly be bisexual, but I've never been with either sex, so how would I know? I kissed a girl in 5th grade, but that's redundant. I've never been very popular or outgoing, so I've never kissed anyone for real.

Gerard was my first kiss. It suddenly just dawns on me. I didn't even think about that.
Did I like it as more than just a comfort-thing?

“It's up to you,” Gerard says, braking my trail of thought. I forgot to answer.
Gerard sighs.
“I like you. I have for...a little while now.” I feel bad now. I have this burning feeling in my gut that tells me that I feel guilty somehow. Even though I know I don't have to, because I didn't know he liked me and I've only just been confronted with it now, but I feel bad for never having thought about it. And that doesn't really make any sense, does it?
“When you told me that you worked at the soup kitchen, I just saw something in you that I hadn't before. And that sort of just...developed. With time. And now I see so much more, even when I know the truth. So, uhm,” he says and pauses.

He liked me because of something he thought I was, and then likes me more when he finds out I'm the exact opposite?

“I like you. I'd like to...be something with you. Something more than friends.”

The burning feeling in my gut grows stronger. I've already hurt him by not answering right away. I just know I've already ruined our friendship, and even if I wanted something to happen between us, he might not forgive me for this – for hesitating.
But what do I know? I don't know anything. I don't know what I want.

“Just think about it? Consider it?”
I nod, the back of my head rubbing against Gerard's upper stomach. I keep lying in his arms. He hasn't moved either; he hasn't let go of my hand or tried to push me away.

And we just stay like that. We just keep lying like that – holding each other and being held by each other – and do nothing but think. It's completely silent, and we don't do anything about it. I don't reach for the remote and Gerard doesn't get up to play the CD that came to an end about an hour ago.

I have no idea what to do.