Love Letters to You [On Hold]

twelve

Entry #12
November 1st, 2034

I don't know how you manage to steal my breath away every single time, Nate. There was a time when I used to think there was no way you could possibly like me back, but you do. And I'm so glad you do. I'm so so so so glad.

That night when you kissed me, you ended up spending the night. And for the whole night, we just talked.

My first question was, "Nate, a-are you g-gay?"

You nodded with a small smile. "Yes."

My heart started to pound loudly in my chest. It was finally true. "H-how long?"

You plopped down on my bed beside me and stared up at the ceiling in deep thought. "For awhile," was all you said, which led me to believe it was for a long time. "How about you?"

I didn't want to tell you that I knew I was gay the second I saw you. No. That sounded too girly. "Oh, I don't know."

My lie must have been very see-through, because you raised a skeptical brow and poked a finger into my side. "Come on, Cal. How long have you known?"

"When I laid eyes on you ... That's when I knew."

His green eyes twinkled with excitement as he fell back onto my bed. "That's so cute, Cal."

I didn't know why, but I thought you weren't being serious. What were the chances of me liking you and you actually liking me back in a world where being gay was forbidden? "Are you making fun of me?" I questioned. "You don't have to pretend like you like me. If you don't and you're planning to tell the police after you leave, just tell me so I can say goodbye to my family."

You sat up straight and frowned as you ran a tentative hand along the side of my face. "Is that what you think? Cal, I wouldn't lie about being gay. I never would've told you if I didn't know that you were gay too."

"Oh," I said, short.

You gestured over to my journal. "So you write about me, huh?"

I could feel the heat rushing to my cheeks. "It's stupid, I know. I just ... It's the only way to talk about how I feel and for it to still be safe. That may be weird, I'm sorry. I'll stop if you want me to."

You shook your head, still smiling. "No, I wanna read it."

My eyes nearly fell out of my sockets. "What! No, you can't! I don't want you to-"

"How about this?" You placed a hand on my thigh and gazed into my eyes. "When you finish writing all of your little love letters, you'll give them to me, yeah? I wanna read them."

"Nate!"

"Sshh," you hushed me by placing a finger on my lips. "You could be a really great writer one day and no one will ever know. Why? Because you won't share your thoughts with me."

I knew I couldn't resist for long. It was you for god's sake. So I just nodded. "Fine. But only when I'm done and I've edited some stuff that I don't want you to read."

You laughed a real genuine laugh and pulled me into your arms, burying your face into my neck and kissing the skin there.

There was something about the way you touched me that made me feel safe. "This is so funny," I laughed to myself.

"How?"

"They're going to find out and kill us," I said softly.

You glanced up at me and pulled your dark furry brows together. "Stop being a pessimist, Cal. We're gonna be just fine." With one hand, you tilted my chin up and planted a soft chaste kiss onto my lips. "I think I'm going to get addicted to kissing you," you said. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to."

That made me smile. "Does this mean we make love now?"

I didn't know why you found that so funny, but you laughed so hard that I thought you might have a heart attack. "No, Cal. Guys can't make love."

I furrowed my brows. "Why not?"

"It's just a little harder to do it," you tried to explain but you still managed to confuse me even more. "And even if we decide to do it, you're way too young for that."

Now that really angered me. I knew you had to have been several years older than me, but that didn't make it okay for you to call me young. "I'm not young," I protested as I wiggled out of your arms. "I'm turning fifteen soon."

You smiled. "And that's still way too young to be having sex, Cal."

I crossed my arms against my chest and poured. "Why are you calling it that? Having sex? We're not having sex. We're making love. We love each other, so why can't we try to make love?" Truth was, I didn't know all the mechanics that went into it. But I was sure you and I would be able to figure it out.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" You stopped me from ranting further. "Cal, I like you. A lot. But love is a big word."

Maybe I wasn't too knowledgable with many of the popular colloquialisms nowadays, but that just didn't make sense. "What are you talking about? Love is only four letters."

And you laughed again. "It's an expression, Cal. What I meant is that we still need to discover each other. There's plenty of stuff about you that I don't know yet. Like your favorite color."

The more you talked, the more confused I got. "What does my favorite color have to do with anything?"

You sighed heavily, and I knew it was because you were frustrated with me. You took my hand in yours and placed it over your chest. "Do you feel it? My heart's beating. And it's going to keep beating tomorrow and the day after that and the day after that. We don't have to rush things, Cal. I'm just really happy that we're able to come this far."

And then you kissed me again, long and hard. But this time it felt more desperate because you let your hands get lost in my tangled curls and you fell on top of me, still kissing me with those soft lips of yours. Then all of a sudden, your tongue slipped past my teeth and it took me by surprise because I thought you were trying to choke me.

But after awhile, I got used to it and realized it was just another form of kissing. Then you began to stroke my arms and I felt my jeans tighten. I didn't understand what was going on but I decided that you were right. We still needed to discover each other.

But you were wrong about one thing.

You don't know when your heart's going to stop beating.