You go through your life day by day. Agonizing minutes pass by.
You're different. Nothing about you says it. Nothing gives you away, but
you know it deep inside.
So you go through the motions. You wear the cool clothes, you drive the cool car. You listen to the cool music, but you know it's a lie. It tears you up inside, this secret you hold. Something that would destroy you if it ever got out. You're different. You're lonely. You're sad all the time. You can't count the number of mornings you've woken to burning eyes and tear-soaked pillows, but you go on anyway because there is nothing else.
You're terrified to tell anyone because of what they'll think. You're weak, a coward, afraid of the consequences. You go to the chat rooms. You find nothing there. No one to hold you, to soothe you, to dry your tears. You're still lonely, still sad all the time, still waking to sobs.
You're watching TV and sigh. A stupid cartoon about freaks eerily similar to you. You're ashamed of yourself for watching, for waking early just to see it. You fall in love with one of the characters. He's got everything you could ever want. You feel he knows your secret, and has one of his own. He knows what its like. He would hold you, soothe you, and dry your tears. You want so desperately to surround yourself in his powerful blue haired arms. You're ashamed of yourself for falling in love with something you can never have. He's stronger and braver and smarter than you'll ever be, but never flaunts it, never hurts you, so its easier.
You try to forget. You try to convince yourself you're normal. You date a girl you don't want to date. You tell yourself you're happy that way, but you know you're not.
A year later you're in the chat rooms still finding nothing. You remember your cartoon and the love that could never be. You're looking for something, anything about him, your love that could never be. You find something. A story. He's exactly the way you pictured him. Exactly the way you wanted him. Suddenly its morning, and you've finished the story. The beautiful world has thrust you out, and back into your own.
You decide you're not ready and make a world of your own. You write what you cant have because you're hopelessly, impossibly in love.
You know it's a lie. But it's a good lie. And to live through today, that's good enough.
So you go through the motions. You wear the cool clothes, you drive the cool car. You listen to the cool music, but you know it's a lie. It tears you up inside, this secret you hold. Something that would destroy you if it ever got out. You're different. You're lonely. You're sad all the time. You can't count the number of mornings you've woken to burning eyes and tear-soaked pillows, but you go on anyway because there is nothing else.
You're terrified to tell anyone because of what they'll think. You're weak, a coward, afraid of the consequences. You go to the chat rooms. You find nothing there. No one to hold you, to soothe you, to dry your tears. You're still lonely, still sad all the time, still waking to sobs.
You're watching TV and sigh. A stupid cartoon about freaks eerily similar to you. You're ashamed of yourself for watching, for waking early just to see it. You fall in love with one of the characters. He's got everything you could ever want. You feel he knows your secret, and has one of his own. He knows what its like. He would hold you, soothe you, and dry your tears. You want so desperately to surround yourself in his powerful blue haired arms. You're ashamed of yourself for falling in love with something you can never have. He's stronger and braver and smarter than you'll ever be, but never flaunts it, never hurts you, so its easier.
You try to forget. You try to convince yourself you're normal. You date a girl you don't want to date. You tell yourself you're happy that way, but you know you're not.
A year later you're in the chat rooms still finding nothing. You remember your cartoon and the love that could never be. You're looking for something, anything about him, your love that could never be. You find something. A story. He's exactly the way you pictured him. Exactly the way you wanted him. Suddenly its morning, and you've finished the story. The beautiful world has thrust you out, and back into your own.
You decide you're not ready and make a world of your own. You write what you cant have because you're hopelessly, impossibly in love.
You know it's a lie. But it's a good lie. And to live through today, that's good enough.