TW: SUICIDE, DRUGS, DEPRESSION
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A bunch of Teenagers who want to find their way around the world.
Especially two people who slowly find their love for each other.
...
I don't know why I can't be honest, who Gabe was for me and why I have been right for him for so long, why I couldn't let go and now let him go.
I'm afraid that Louis doesn't want more than what we have.
I feel more and more that I can't fool him, but at the same time, my masks are becoming more and more impenetrable.
I'm in such a conflict.
And how he sat there by the fire, with his guitar in his hands, totally immersed ... I love looking at his hands while playing, his face, his expression.
Of course, I had deliberately set myself aside because I avoided him; and he gave me a look and smiled at me with his sweet dimples, but didn't come up to me at some point, someone named Sophie sat next to him.
She hung on his lips, literally adoring him.
I totally overreacted again inside and couldn't stand the sight, which is why I moved away from the group.
Completely high, alone, in the middle of the night.
I lay down on the street at some point and just stared up because I was so scared of having a heart attack or something.
I don't know how long I stared at this canopy of leaves, but it calmed me down extremely.
At some point, Louis' face appeared in front of me, with his warm, dark eyes.
His eyes penetrate my soul every time.
When I saw him the first time, it scared me so much; I thought I had to defend myself against it, but now I have an insatiable desire for this look.
He lifted me up, one hand on my back and the other on the back of my knees.
He carried me home to him while I snuggled into his chest to get a little warmth.
When we got to him I fell asleep straight away and that is all I know.
I'm still with Louis now, he sits at the desk and plays the guitar, in between he always makes notes in his little book, and every now and then he looks over at me.
I love being here, it's much more my home than with my parents.
That smell, the warmth, his bed, the evenings with Makayla on the couch...
The things I can talk to them about, the thoughts I can keep spinning with them, how real I can be without being weird.
And if I look into his eyes, I somehow can not make friends with death.
Am I in love?
So far I have had the experience that I am pretty certain when I ask myself this question.
