A/N: The first two chapters of this story have just been edited, and the third and fourth are now up. I have decided to add a lemon versions of certain chapters, as well as teen versions. If you would like to read the lemon versions, PM me. I will let you know if a chapter has a lemon version available in the Author's note of that Chapter. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

Ever since I was born, I knew I was different. I tended to favor artistic items over an outdoorsy trip. Don't get me wrong, I loved going fishing, camping, and training especially. There was one key event that occurred in my life that just confirmed my sorrows of abnormality. It was simply meeting Piccolo.

Piccolo was a man whom I looked up to in admiration. I had grown fond of him by my 11th year, when my pubescense was starting to kick in. My emotions were so screwy I lost my sense of relativity. I was essentially lost in some void in an alternate dimension. It was like I was moving, but I couldn't feel. I talked, but I don't remember what I said. Amidst all this darkness, I saw and felt one person in my mind. Thinking about him was what kept me somewhat down to Earth during these times of great sorrow. Piccolo. He caught my attention, and I soon wanted to see him more often. I would often catch myself consuming his body in my imagination, while staring at his green, chiseled, body through my peripheries. Obviously, the sexual attraction was strong in me, but it was much more. I felt a deeper emotion than just sex. I loved the way he would talk to me in a soothing, harmonic voice, and how he trained me, and ultimately taught me not to give up when times are difficult. He smoothed out the emotional roller coaster of my teenage years. More to a current point, I don't know how to confess how I feel to Piccolo. I love him, but it's a strong love. This love festers from the numerous times he has stood in front of a blast in order to save me, but not excluding the hard, but great training I received. I dwell on this nearly everyday. My feelings for him are too deep to ignore forever.

I planned out each time I would confess to him, but it wasn't until today I realized I couldn't confess my love to him. If I did let these feelings loose and out in the open, I would have to come out of my protective closet. I guess I'm addicted to the scent of the moth balls that lie upon the floor. I don't understand why I feel this way about Piccolo, or the fact that I like boys in general. Why can I not just be a normal person? I have to stay hidden, but for how long? When will my anguish end? I keep thinking and brooding over my feelings for this Namekian man and other older men, and the thought, in some way, sickens me. I shouldn't be like this. This really isn't normal. What other man on the planet Earth actually sees himself falling for another human of the same sex? I hate myself for who I am, and what I am. The pain eats away at my well-being everyday. My appearance drastically changes each day; My mother worries and worries about me, and I can't tell her what's wrong due to the fact that she will disown me. She will abhor me just like anyone else would. That brings me to another reason why I can't confess my love. I don't want to ruin my friendship with Piccolo. He brings me so much joy, and I wouldn't be able to bear him turning his back on me in rejection.

Why would Piccolo reject me? I ask myself. Because of what he said the last time I attempted to speak with him. I was dead set on talking through these feelings with him. I was almost sure he knew what I was going to talk about, mainly because he wore a disgusted complexion. He didn't even say any thing, but I could tell he already hated me, so I just left without another glance back.

So, now, I stand here facing a mirror. Who is this face I see in the reflection? This isn't me! Where is the assinine smile that once plastered itself upon my face? Where is the kindness and compassion that used to radiate from my body? Who am I? I see my face is pale, and my eyes have dark circles around them. It's time to put those closet years to use. I lightly sprinkle foundation on my ghost-like face to bring out my skin color. The makeup is just a mask. A facade, if you will. It hides the pain and anguish that is erupting underneath. It seems as if no one notices. As I see my face is well blended, I turn away from the mirror, and I walk straight from the bathroom to my study, where I retire to everyday. I am only bothered at meal times, and when it is time to sleep. As I search for an interesting read, I find myself thinking back over the years. Why am I so afraid? I ask myself, but almost immediatley push the dreadful thought from my mind. I can't be thinking. I must continue to mosey along in my secluded pass time, where I fear I will never be free from this unending agony. There are only two options left at this point: I either admit I love Piccolo, or I commit suicide. Neither are very appealing.

I've never felt for someone so strongly before. That young man is super cute. I know he's only 17, but damn! He makes me melt in the middle of the winter. I try to tell him how I feel, and it eats away at me everyday. I really must tell him, but I am afraid of what he will say. Gohan would never forgive me for the three simple words I would say. I love you. I know my sacrifices for him would have shown him some form of parental love, but I doubt it could be much more than that to him. These emotions that I feel for the young chibi, I cannot express, nor decipher. This sensation of a growing flame is present in my heart when ever my gaze crosses his small, soft body. If he did accept these feelings, I would be a rogue as well as he. I am supposed to be asexual. I shouldn't feel like this about anyone but myself. Gohan, however, would have to suffer much more than me, and I would loathe myself should I cause young Gohan any more pain. I can see it written in the well-disguised face of his. He's merely living for appearance, and he seems detached from everyone else. I remember seeing him so elated that I thought he would explode! Things took a turn for the worse, though, when his father left. He's never been the same since. The last time he tried to come up to me was over a week ago, and I couldn't talk to him at that point. I was and still am in a phase that can only be gotten out of by clearing my head. I rummage through my brain to see if I can remember any other person I fell in love with. I try and try, and only one man comes to mind. Goku.

Goku was my first love. At first we were enimies. Bitter as anyone could tell. Before I helped save the Earth from Sayians, I had a change of heart. I realized the anger I felt toward Goku wasn't vengeance for my father. It was sexual tension, and my way of dealing with it at the time. I never even knew my father, so why would I feel any sort of anger if he died? Anyway, I tried to tell Goku once when I saw him alone, but he always tries to attack me. I could never get anywhere with him. I ended up just giving up on him, and isolating myself to deserted wastelands. That is where I will always find my peace. My daily meditation now occurs in the middle of a forest, far away from any society. My head needed clearing, and I wanted to be alone, or with Gohan. His assinine smile used to light up my day. As I think back to the last day I saw him, I feel I deeply damaged our relationship. He came flying up to my temporary home near his own. He seemed a little worked up over something. At the time, I was thinking about him and was contemplating why I couldn't just talk to him. He walked in and I turned around, no words exchanged, and no faces creating a welcoming tone. I saw his eyes actually react, he looked deeply wounded, and he seemed as if he was crying as he left. I felt like the worst being on Earth.

After that, I wondered what Gohan was doing. He's probably out training in the sun like usual. He might be trying to live out his father's life as the patriarch of the home. I need to visit with him; in order to tell him my feelings and to apologize to the young Sayian. For some reason, I think this to be the best and hardest thing I have ever made up my mind to do. This Friday, I will confess to him. Yes, I am traditional like that. I will tell him underneath the low hanging branches of a cherry tree. It's time to stop lying to myself. Look out Gohan, here I come!