It's Different.
It's different. That's what you'd tell her. You'd tell her that you were only kissing for practise. Practise for guys. That was all. You both liked it. You both wanted it. But it was practise. That's what you said. It's a different reason when you kiss guys. Because that's normal.
It's different. That's what you'd tell her. You only touched to get used to the feeling. You were each others firsts so it wouldn't hurt with guys. You only carried on for practise. It's different with guys, better with guys. You'd tell her. And it was different. For both of you. But it wasn't better. Just different.
It's different. That's what you'd tell her. She can't love you like that. That love's reserved for Artie, or Sam or anyone. Any guy. Not for you. That's what you'd tell her. Your love was different. Yours was friendship love. That was it. It was different from romantic love.
It's different. That's what you'd think now. Watching her with 's not the same at all. The smile isn't for you anymore. It's for someone else. Someone different. Someone brave. She isn't yours anymore. It's just too different.
It's different. That's something you're sure of. You don't feel different. But it's different now. Because you're sure. You know what you have to do. You're sure that it's the right thing. And you're sure that you no longer gives a damn about everyone else. Because you're going to let yourself be different. You're going to tell her. Tell everyone.
It's different. You think. It went differently than you expected. You expected the girl to tell you she feels the same. You expected her to fall into your arms and for you both to skip off into the sunset. But it didn't happen. Instead you're in the middle stall of the girls bathrooms. You're not crying because you don't cry. You've just got something in both eyes. You don't cry. Ever.
It's different. You know. Of course it's always been that she comes to you when she's upset. But normally she's upset because of someone else. Not because of you. You argue. You never argue. But she tells you that you obviously doesn't love yourself as much as you love her. You have to agree. You hate that she's right.
It's different. That's something she tells you. Because Artie was never really there for her. She had feelings for the boy. But not in the way that she has feelings for you. You talk. About feelings. You never talk about feelings. But you're doing it for her. So you can have her.
It's different. That's what you both know. Because now it isn't a secret. Now she knows. Now everyone knows. And you don't care. You're happy. She's happy. Happy together.
It's different. You think as you walk back up the aisle in your white dresses together. Because now it's official. But it's not different at all. A bit of paper doesn't change the way you feel, how you've always felt. It just confirms it.
In all honesty it's never been different. You just needed to see it.