teenagers are never joking. when seeking to prove a point, principals and teachers should remember that teenagers are never, ever sarcasic or ironic. if they say "I wish someone would drop a bomb on this school right now," that means they have arranged for a nuclear arsenal to be emptied onto the school and should be immediately suspended and ridiculed. if they say they were merely coming up with a joking excuse to postpone a bio test, reply that all jokes are funny, and that since dropping a bomb on a school is not funny, it is therefore not a joke.
As long as we can conjure, who needs anything else? As long as we can agree on the magical lie and be happy, what more is there to ask for? “I loved you from that moment on,” I say. “I loved you from that moment on,” you agree.
You never let things go unanswered for too long. Emails. Phone calls. Questions. As if you know the waiting is the hardest part for me.
I can see that the sadness has returned. And it's not a beautiful sadness- beautiful sadness is a myth. Sadness turns our features to clay, not porcelain.
We could call you an ambisexual. A duosexual. A—” “Do I really have to find a word for it?” Kyle interrupts. “Can’t it just be what it is?” “Of course,” I say, even though in the bigger world I’m not so sure. The world loves stupid labels. I wish we got to choose our own. We pause for a moment. I wonder if that’s all—if he just needed to say the truth and have it heard. But then Kyle looks at me with unsure eyes and says, “You see, I don’t know who I’m supposed to be.” “Nobody does,” I assure him.
My pride shut me up, my hurt shut me down, and together they ganged up on my hope and let her get away.
dissonance, n. Nights when I need to sleep and you can't. Days when I want to talk to you and you won't. Hours when every noise you make interferes with my silence. Weeks when there is a buzzing in the air, and we both pretend we don't here it.
Someday your prince will come," I assure him. "And the first thing I'm going to say to him is, 'What took you so long?
My face seems too square and my eyes too big, like I'm perpetually surprised, but there's nothing wrong with me that I can fix.
gravity, n. I imagine you saved my life. And then I wonder if I'm just imagining it.
We were painting by numbers, starting with the greens. Because that happened to be our favorite color. And this, we figured, had to mean something.
incessant adj. The doubts. You had to save me from my constant doubts. That deep-seeded feeling that I wasn't good enough for anything I was a fake at my job I wasn't your equal my friends would forget me if I moved away for a month. It wasn't as easy as hearing voices nobody was telling me this. It was just something I knew. Everyone else was playing along but I was sure that one day they would all stop.
When distractions are manifold, it's best to remember what you are supposed to be doing.
barfly n. You have the ability to talk to anyone which is an ability I do not share.
That's the question, isn't it?" you said one night. "Does death bring freedom, or is it the end of freedom?
Your life is inescapable. Unless you decide to escape it.
In my experience, desire is desire, love is love.
It's one of the secrets of strength: We're so much more likely to find it in the service of others than in service to ourselves.
You made me lose my appetite, Boomer." "My mom tells me that all the time. Your family must be just like mine!
If I lose it now, I will lose you, too. I know that. I hate it.
I love you-I do-but I am afraid of making that love too important. Because you're always going to leave me, A. We can't deny it. You're always going to leave.
How can you spend hours every day trying in small ways to figure out who you are, then have a near-stranger give you a sentence of yourself that says it better than you ever could?
it's gonna hurt because it matters.
I've always known I was gay, but it wasn't confirmed until I was in kindergarten. It was my teacher who said so. It was right there on my kindergarten report card: PAUL IS DEFINITELY GAY AND HAS VERY GOOD SENSE OF SELF.
How do you commemorate a year? A paper anniversary, but we are the words written down, not the paper.
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