𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗖𝗹𝗼𝘀𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗪𝗮𝗹𝗹𝗳𝗹𝗼𝘄𝗲𝗿 ┃✓

one.| i'm afraid

"Only know you love her when you let her go."

The strings of the guitar echoed from my earpods as they stopped. The song was almost over.

Instinctively, my hands covered my face as I groaned into them, my head continuously pounding, adrenaline coursing through my veins continuously, but that was next to nothing compared to the amount of feelings I had encompassed for Lydia Coleman.

Her brunette hair, long and smooth, just like silk threads while her smile was enough to make my heart and brain go haywire. How her lips would turn up when her warm hazel eyes would pierce into my green ones. How she would step towards me, her eyes subtly seducing me in a way like no one ever did, as she'd cock her head to a side just to make me want to crave her. Need her.

Hiding my feelings for Lydia was one of the hardest things I had ever done. With her careless yet deliberate moves towards me, of how she'd carelessly play with my messy blonde hair, or how she'd deliberately walk right next to me, our arms rubbing against each other, sexual frustration radiating through them vividly. She played her cards well, making me want her, making me jump into the sea of feelings I never knew I possessed and was still afraid to admit.

Afraid to admit my own feelings.

Afraid of how others would react.

Afraid of how my parents, sitting downstairs, watching "normal" movies would react when I'd tell them I'm not as "normal" as they had earlier presumed. I'm the opposite of what they had perceived. I'm just another queer in the Benedict's name, who was lying carelessly on the dark green carpet of her room's floor. In a game called life, I gave my heart to Lydia Coleman, and there's nothing I could do about it.

Either I stay at home, listen to songs which would make me feel like I've broken up with her when we haven't started dating or I drag myself to the pride parade and come out of the closet.

"You know I want you, it's not a secret I try to hide."

I winced as the song started playing and even before the second line could even start. I took out my earpods and stopped the songs being played inside my ears, my head throbbing with anxiety as I aggressively threw them away, towards the pale green walls which were adorned with all my artwork.

It had been two days since Lydia had placed her last card. "The card of coming out", that's what Andrea called it when I told her about the dilemma I had.

Hearing her confess her true feelings about me was a bittersweet experience, though it complicated matters rather than to simplify it.
Lydia wanted me to answer her one question, on the day of the Annual Pride Parade, which would take place on every 30th June. Even though that'd mean that I'd get to confess to her, the whole prospect was daunting for an introvert like me, who was agoraphobic. The phobia of crowded spaces, the baseless reason of why I had started to feel way too comfortable hiding in the closet.

"You know you are seriously fucked up when you are stopping the songs from being played." A voice started, catching me off guard, as I jumped from my position, now perking up from being sprawled on the ground.

Andrea McCarthy stood right in front of me, shaking her head in dejection as her short black hair hit her pale face. Her faded blue shirt, over which she wore a sleeveless black sweater, now looked very dirty and worn. Black ripped pants showed patches of dirt, and I was completely sure of how she came here right after her garden club duties.