Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
right here.
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
"I hate you."
"I love you too."
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
He doesn't get it.
I sat there in the empty room, trapped in my own self misery, trapped inside something bigger then I was.
He doesn't get it.
I love him.
He doesn't get it.
He's getting married.
He doesn't get it.
It's not me.
I'm not the one wearing the golden ring.
I'm not the one smiling in his glow.
I'm not the one playing with the white strings on his hoodie.
I'm not the one kissing the corner of his mouth.
I'm not the one begging him to take me out somewhere romantic.
I'm not the one he has his hands on.
I'm not the one playing with his dark curly hair.
I'm not the one staring into his gentle chocolate eyes.
I'm not the one going to sleep with him at night.
I'm not the one waking up next to him in the morning.
I'm not the one getting him coffee so he isn't a grouch. One packet of sugar, a pinch of cinnamon.
I'm not the one having sex with him with every chance possible.
I'm not the one with his arms around me tightly.
I'm not the one making him happy.
He doesn't get it.
I'm the one wearing the silver promise ring he gave to me when we were teenagers.
I'm the one crying in his presence.
I'm the one who kept his favorite hoodie he gave me for Christmas 5 years ago.
I'm the one licking my lips and trying to remember his taste.
I'm the one silently pleading he'll say hi to me today.
I'm the one who is afraid to give him a high five because he might make it hurt.
I'm the one who through his old brush out because it still had hair in it.
I'm the one staring at the glossy picture of him, staring deeply into his amazing glazed over orbs.
I'm the one stuck in this empty room.
I'm the one waking up next to an empty bedside.
I'm the one who knows how to make his coffee exactly how he likes it.
I'm the one who can only get off thinking about his voice whispering in my ear.
I'm the one with only old memories.
I'm the one who makes him sad.
He doesn't get it.
He doesn't remember the night he gave me the ring. We were so young yet so old.
"Gabe! Why're you bringing me out here in the middle of the night like this? " William giggled being pushed somewhere with a blindfold wrapped tightly around his head.
"Because . . . " Gabe mumbled and stopped William placing both arms around his waist and kissing his neck gently. "Ain't it pretty? "
"Gabe . . . " William giggled shaking his head. "I'm still blind folded. "
Gabe cursed softly and removed the blindfold tossing it to the side. They were looking over a giant cliff that crashed into the deathly waves of the evening. William nearly screamed and widened his eyes biting on his tongue, his feet inches from the edge. He tensed incredibly and Gabe tightened his grip.
"I've got you . . . " he whispered softly and smiled, William sighing and slightly loosening up.
Gabe pulled a ring out of his pocket, a silver ring and slipped it into William's hand.
"What's this? " the younger asked softly looking at it, leaning back into Gabe with a soft smile. The sound of the waves crashing below loud and infuriating yet calming in the arms of his boyfriend.
"It's my promise to be yours forever." Gabe said and William put the ring on his right thumb since it slipped off all the other fingers.
"It has shapes . . . " William said slow and raised an eyebrow.
"Come on, Billvy. It's me. What do you expect, diamonds? I'm only in a band . . . " Gabe said with a frown.
William shook his head quickly and smiled. "No. I hate diamonds. I like the shapes. They remind me of you." he chuckled softly and shrugged slightly. "Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle. " he whispered slowly and nodded. "Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle. "
"You can say that whenever you miss me. Know, those are the shapes of my heart."
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
He doesn't get it.
He was supposed to be mine forever.
I wasn't supposed to have to share.
I wasn't supposed to have to give him up.
He doesn't get it.
I say those shapes every day, and I whisper them to myself at least once a day.
I remind myself what they mean. I try to think badly of them. I try to think that they were a stupid idea and that he should've just gotten me a plain silver ring or one with our names on it. But I can't. I love my ring. Right down to the copyright sign on the inside and the numbers etched 925. I don't know what that means, but it means the world to me.
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
He doesn't get it.
No body could love him as much as I do.
No body could want to be with him as much as I do.
No body could be so happy just in the same room as him as I do
No body could sprawl his name more on a piece of paper as I do.
He doesn't get it.
I've written Mr. Gabe Eduardo Beckett Saporta more then I can count on my fingers and toes.
I've written William Eugene Beckett Saporta more then I can count on a telephone.
I've written Mikey William and Gabe's wedding more then I can count on a calculator.
He doesn't get it.
I hate Mikey.
I hate Mikey because Mikey has Gabe.
I hate Mikey because Mikey has Gabe and he doesn't appreciate him like he should.
I hate Mikey because he's a cheater. He's been in love with more than one person, when I've only loved one.
I hate Mikey because he'll soon be Mikey Saporta Way.
I hate Mikey because he'll soon make Gabe Saporta, Gabe Saporta Way.
I hate Mikey because he's left Gabe before for someone else.
I hate Mikey because Gabe took him back.
I hate Mikey because when Gabe left him for me, he left me for Mikey. Again.
I hate Mikey because he broke my best friend's heart.
I hate Mikey because he got Hayley before I did.
I hate Mikey because I have enough reasons to dislike him that it turns into hate.
He doesn't get it.
I'm in this empty room by myself, only accompanied by my clothes, my ring and the scattered sanity I own. I sit at this old table staring out the window where the sun shines brightly and looks down on the world below. The room I'm in is shadowed by all my misery that I find it hard to breathe. The door opens slowly and then footsteps, and it closes.
I turn my head and give a small smile at the man who entered the room. "Hi Gabe . . . " I whispered softly. He smiled back and walked over behind me, kneeling behind the chair and wrapping his arms around my torso.
"Hi Bilvy." He whispered softly with a wink kissing my cheek gently and looking out the window with me. We both watch Mikey's car leave for work.
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
"I love you."
"I love you too."
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
"I hate you."
"I love you too."
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
He doesn't get it.
I sat there in the empty room, trapped in my own self misery, trapped inside something bigger then I was.
He doesn't get it.
I love him.
He doesn't get it.
He's getting married.
He doesn't get it.
It's not me.
I'm not the one wearing the golden ring.
I'm not the one smiling in his glow.
I'm not the one playing with the white strings on his hoodie.
I'm not the one kissing the corner of his mouth.
I'm not the one begging him to take me out somewhere romantic.
I'm not the one he has his hands on.
I'm not the one playing with his dark curly hair.
I'm not the one staring into his gentle chocolate eyes.
I'm not the one going to sleep with him at night.
I'm not the one waking up next to him in the morning.
I'm not the one getting him coffee so he isn't a grouch. One packet of sugar, a pinch of cinnamon.
I'm not the one having sex with him with every chance possible.
I'm not the one with his arms around me tightly.
I'm not the one making him happy.
He doesn't get it.
I'm the one wearing the silver promise ring he gave to me when we were teenagers.
I'm the one crying in his presence.
I'm the one who kept his favorite hoodie he gave me for Christmas 5 years ago.
I'm the one licking my lips and trying to remember his taste.
I'm the one silently pleading he'll say hi to me today.
I'm the one who is afraid to give him a high five because he might make it hurt.
I'm the one who through his old brush out because it still had hair in it.
I'm the one staring at the glossy picture of him, staring deeply into his amazing glazed over orbs.
I'm the one stuck in this empty room.
I'm the one waking up next to an empty bedside.
I'm the one who knows how to make his coffee exactly how he likes it.
I'm the one who can only get off thinking about his voice whispering in my ear.
I'm the one with only old memories.
I'm the one who makes him sad.
He doesn't get it.
He doesn't remember the night he gave me the ring. We were so young yet so old.
"Gabe! Why're you bringing me out here in the middle of the night like this? " William giggled being pushed somewhere with a blindfold wrapped tightly around his head.
"Because . . . " Gabe mumbled and stopped William placing both arms around his waist and kissing his neck gently. "Ain't it pretty? "
"Gabe . . . " William giggled shaking his head. "I'm still blind folded. "
Gabe cursed softly and removed the blindfold tossing it to the side. They were looking over a giant cliff that crashed into the deathly waves of the evening. William nearly screamed and widened his eyes biting on his tongue, his feet inches from the edge. He tensed incredibly and Gabe tightened his grip.
"I've got you . . . " he whispered softly and smiled, William sighing and slightly loosening up.
Gabe pulled a ring out of his pocket, a silver ring and slipped it into William's hand.
"What's this? " the younger asked softly looking at it, leaning back into Gabe with a soft smile. The sound of the waves crashing below loud and infuriating yet calming in the arms of his boyfriend.
"It's my promise to be yours forever." Gabe said and William put the ring on his right thumb since it slipped off all the other fingers.
"It has shapes . . . " William said slow and raised an eyebrow.
"Come on, Billvy. It's me. What do you expect, diamonds? I'm only in a band . . . " Gabe said with a frown.
William shook his head quickly and smiled. "No. I hate diamonds. I like the shapes. They remind me of you." he chuckled softly and shrugged slightly. "Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle. " he whispered slowly and nodded. "Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle. "
"You can say that whenever you miss me. Know, those are the shapes of my heart."
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
He doesn't get it.
He was supposed to be mine forever.
I wasn't supposed to have to share.
I wasn't supposed to have to give him up.
He doesn't get it.
I say those shapes every day, and I whisper them to myself at least once a day.
I remind myself what they mean. I try to think badly of them. I try to think that they were a stupid idea and that he should've just gotten me a plain silver ring or one with our names on it. But I can't. I love my ring. Right down to the copyright sign on the inside and the numbers etched 925. I don't know what that means, but it means the world to me.
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.
He doesn't get it.
No body could love him as much as I do.
No body could want to be with him as much as I do.
No body could be so happy just in the same room as him as I do
No body could sprawl his name more on a piece of paper as I do.
He doesn't get it.
I've written Mr. Gabe Eduardo Beckett Saporta more then I can count on my fingers and toes.
I've written William Eugene Beckett Saporta more then I can count on a telephone.
I've written Mikey William and Gabe's wedding more then I can count on a calculator.
He doesn't get it.
I hate Mikey.
I hate Mikey because Mikey has Gabe.
I hate Mikey because Mikey has Gabe and he doesn't appreciate him like he should.
I hate Mikey because he's a cheater. He's been in love with more than one person, when I've only loved one.
I hate Mikey because he'll soon be Mikey Saporta Way.
I hate Mikey because he'll soon make Gabe Saporta, Gabe Saporta Way.
I hate Mikey because he's left Gabe before for someone else.
I hate Mikey because Gabe took him back.
I hate Mikey because when Gabe left him for me, he left me for Mikey. Again.
I hate Mikey because he broke my best friend's heart.
I hate Mikey because he got Hayley before I did.
I hate Mikey because I have enough reasons to dislike him that it turns into hate.
He doesn't get it.
I'm in this empty room by myself, only accompanied by my clothes, my ring and the scattered sanity I own. I sit at this old table staring out the window where the sun shines brightly and looks down on the world below. The room I'm in is shadowed by all my misery that I find it hard to breathe. The door opens slowly and then footsteps, and it closes.
I turn my head and give a small smile at the man who entered the room. "Hi Gabe . . . " I whispered softly. He smiled back and walked over behind me, kneeling behind the chair and wrapping his arms around my torso.
"Hi Bilvy." He whispered softly with a wink kissing my cheek gently and looking out the window with me. We both watch Mikey's car leave for work.
Triangle. Square. Oval. Diamond. Circle.