Coffee Fondness BL

Long Walks - Deep Thoughts

Days like these were ones that I shared mixed feelings over, I loved the smell of petrichor in the air during the damp morning but I despised the amount of it that I would smell in a week. England rains a lot, but living by the coast you realise that it rains a lot more where the water is. I used to live in Ireland, somewhere around Limerick which is a little inland from the sea, so I had never experienced rain like Plymouth. Amazement was something I felt everytime the water dropped from the sky, I would take walks in the rain in the dreary mornings. Most people would only feel sad or in a sense, depressed, yet the beauty of the rain could never cause sadness upon me.

I never knew why I liked the rain so much, most people seemed to hate it. Perhaps it was the solemn silence that followed me or the contrast of the rain and the noise of my former home. My parents were always home, never working, fights would start between them and my older brother but when one specific subject came up it would bring instant anger to all three of them. When I was 16 I told them, my father hit me and kicked me out of the house, I knew he wouldn't accept me but I hadn't thought he would do something so drastic - the shock of it caused me to make an irrational decision to leave the country.

So I fled to England, here I am working as a barista in a small sea side town with no one to turn to if I ever needed a hand. I've been scarred multiple times from past relationships - straight boys pretending to be gay to mock me and shattered hearts being put back together with tacky Pound Shop glue and being ripped once more. After 18 years of living life, you'd think I would have learn a lesson or at least taken hints by now. I'm not made for love and happiness, I see that but my heart keeps tugging me towards attractive men who are very clearly straight.

Looking in the mirror was tough, the homophobic slurs would ring in my mind as I looked at my body. One of which looked just like my homophobic father's, I wish I hadn't been related to them or stayed as long as I did - the houshold was wretched and not even my older brother would look at me after admitting I was attracted to men. As if my attraction made me any less of a person or any less of a man.

"Fag"

"Pansy"

"Bugger"

"Homo"

These were the frequent ones, I wish I hadn't listened or even told them I was gay - I knew it wouldn't end well.

Disney movies make it seem as if wishing will make everything okay again, when I was younger I believed it and so every night I would sit by the window of my bedroom and look up at the stars, wishing and praying to an unknown God that my parents would change. My first wishes were stupid things like toys and games, then I got older and they became hopes for my father to stop drinking or my mother to start caring. For all my parents seemed to do was push me further away, as if they knew I was going to become a 'fag'.

I have green eyes.

People always said they were magical and I could do anything with my eyes. I could even make the world a better place. But no, I'm stuck in a cruel world where the only people that can make a difference are the ones with the money and I can assure you I am not one of those people.

I'm not sure what is was, but the man who came into the coffee shop seems to linger on my mind. The idea of his touch was unbearable and the way his eyes got smaller when he smiled, not to mention the array of contellations right there on his face andd I didn't even ask his name. He could never come back to the shop and I would regret not asking such a simple question yet my mind seemed to want to know things besides his name. I didn't want the basics, I wanted to know the spicy details and every saucy moment he's had in his life - perhaps he hasn't.

One part of my mind wonders if he has been through the same torment I have, if his parents are homophobic and if he has had his heart broken so many times that he doesn't want to love again. But no matter what he still will fall in love because he has no self control when he sees a hot, gay man. Or maybe I'm describing myself. Either way, love cannot be stopped no matter how hard you try and you can't deny it no matter how much you want to.

....Maybe there is just a large burn on my heart, maybe from a coffee spill or maybe from past experiences....