APOLLO ✓

9.

red & blue ;

Dear someone,

My last post was supposed to make you smile, make you laugh at my expense. I hope it did!

Today's post won't be any less pitiful unfortunately because I'm still an impulsive ass and I'm still acting on my immediate feelings without much thought.

Well, except with Starry Eyes. Maybe if I did, he could just reject me once and for all, and I could force myself to move on... anyway.

Junior year was... tiring.

I was depressed and killing myself slowly.

Starry Eyes was fairly content and trying to stop me from killing myself.

I still played football - surprise - and I was one of the best. Golden Boy, they'd dubbed me.

He still did theatre productions and filled canvas with paint. Starry Eyes, I'd dubbed him.

We'd fit into the moulds that society placed for us surprisingly well. On the outside we were all they expected us to be. But a person is more than their exterior.

I started writing poetry after I shared my interest in it with Linda, my therapist. She said it could help with working through how I feel. I didn't care to share it with anyone else, but Starry Eyes is nosy and found some of them. He found one, in particular, that I wrote about him - his eyes, his smile, his everything - and he was really, stupidly happy.

Cue the plot twist.

He thought it was about someone else. Someone I'd met and hadn't told him about. See, the idea of us being anything more than we were was so inconceivable in his mind, that he couldn't even see the most obvious of signs. So I let him think these things. And I watched him move on with the french exchange student.

Pierre, we'll call him.

They had a passionate love affair. Until they didn't.

Chlamydia can be a real bitch like that.

The thing about Pierre is that he, like every teenage boy, had an insatiable need to dick down anything with a pulse. And the thing about me, is that I hated it when people did stupid things that affected Starry Eyes in a bad way.

I look more stoic and uncaring in real life, but he brings out a fire in me that I'd gladly use to burn down the world to ashes with, if it meant his happiness.

So when the gossip and rumours reached boiling point, I stuck my fists into Pierre until flowers of ultraviolet bloomed on his porcelain skin and he was a canvas filled with red. I'd never been one to resort to violence, but my natural inclination towards sports helped build my body into a temple and my anger and resentment helped me use that temple to my advantage.

A temple, it seemed, I was set on destroying - it held stead though.

I found myself in his room as he cleaned and wrapped my knuckled in silence.

"It was dumb, I know," I said trying to catch his eyes as he moved around me, but I love you. I know I can't have you, so I'll make sure as hell that the person that does never hurts you.

"Then there's nothing to talk about."

"Look," I said catching him by his waist before he could leave, "look," his eyes caught mine. I forgot how to breath.

How dazzling that shade of blue is.

I closed my eyes and breathed before opening them up to find him looking at me worriedly. Of course he could hardly stay mad at me, but I could still see the traces of disappointment.

"I-I...You're like... A fiery crimson red, and me... I'm this dull, depressing blue," cliché, I know; I'm not very good with words in the moment but he listened, "Lots of people say we shouldn't mix, and sometimes we're so different, that I think so too, because what is the fucking use of it all," he looks hurt now. I'm rambling.

"Let me finish," I urge before he can break free, "Then I realise that... We're this vibrant purple that nothing could compare to. And I know purple isn't for everyone, but.. This shade definitely is for me. I know then that nothing in this world will mean more to me."

That was as close to telling him how I felt as I'd ever gotten.

He looked at me affectionately and I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to turn his pink lips red and swollen.

But then he slowly hugs me, like a koala on a tree. Cherries is all I breath.

"Thanks for being my best friend," he'd said.

And I felt my heart shatter for the thousandth time.

- golden boy