This story is a complicated one to tell. Although if you think about it, it's not really a story at all. It's more of a love biography. This stuff actually happened, believe it or not and right now, it's irrelevant if we regretted anything in the beginning or towards the middle. It all ended up okay. I mean I knew it would. For one thing, I'm always right (no matter how much Quinn protests), and I got that fluttery feeling in my stomach when I first saw her. And if my obsession with musicals has done anything for me, it's that I know what you're supposed to feel when you fall in love. But not like the love that you see on lame sitcoms. That's complete bullshit, if you haven't noticed before. This love has the power to make you laugh and cry over nonsense, make you feel better (or worse) about yourself, and sometimes it becomes so overwhelming that all of your inhibitions are thrown off of a cliff. So I guess love is kinda like tequila. That must be why they say that you can get drunk on love.
Anyway, my epiphanies aside, this account of love is about me and the woman I'm destined to be with. I don't care how depressed she becomes, or how angry she might get over nothing, or how many times I have to be there for her after she's going to look in the mirror and just cry because she doesn't like what she sees. And quite honestly, I could not give less fucks about what people think about us.
"Oh look, there goes the gay couple who have no friends."
"I heard the blonde one is depressed. Maybe even a little bulimic too."
"Those assholes."
Okay true, the last one would probably still be in my story even if we weren't together, but you get the picture. We walk right by those ignorant, small minded peasants and we don't give them a second thought. Or at least I don't. Sometimes Quinn will isolate herself, or she'll scream herself to sleep, or she'll pace all day until she finally lets me hold her and tell her that their opinions don't matter. I prefer the latter of the three but nevertheless I always try to be there for her. Always. I've left rehearsals without explanation because she's called me and said "Everything looks sad again".
I'm not gonna lie. I don't always enjoy taking care of her. Obviously I want to support her, but it can be challenging. There are her good days and bad days. And then there are very bad days which, upon first encounter, made me want to cry and hit myself with a rock about five million times. But I'm not leaving. I wouldn't want my life to be any different actually. It'd be boring without her.
A/N: Okay, that was a super short prologue, but I promise it gets better.