The Closer I Get to You

1

!!!!A\N!!!!

I wanted to say that this book is NOT made to drag or speak poorly on Christianity or any faith in any way. This is written partially from personal experience and an idea I thought of. I LOVE AND RESPECT ANY FAITH YOU BELIEVE IN. PLEASE RESPECT THE BELIEFS OF OTHERS AS WELL. This is a safe space for everyone.

There will also be depictions of drug abuse/addiction in this book!

If this is not the book for you based on the warnings, I understand fully. I have another BEYNIKA fic on it's way that doesn't touch on faith that will be getting frequent updates.

I love you. All of y'all are my babies. Thank you for supporting my work. ❤️❤️❤️
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𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟏

Nicki

Women were always it.

I hate to admit it.

I spent a majority of my early elementary school years praying all "urges" away. At times when my father preaches of end times, I find myself hitting the ground clinging to faith out of fear. It was always a sort of problem for me.

I hated being the girl because I was always grouped with them. It felt shitty as a girl approaching teenage hood to be surrounded by those you can observe and never have. I still do. While my beliefs have long changed, the little bit of fear planted in me has sprouted and grown.

By the time I got to 8th grade I had agreed to saving myself for marriage in front of my father's church. It was the easiest because I don't like boys much, and I won't touch a girl past a hug and a 5 second handshake out of fear. I love women but hate the idea of burning endlessly. I don't wanna be a part of something that doesn't agree with me and what is a part of me. But there's an unusual hold that it has with me and my sexuality.

As I've gotten older and separated slowly from my parents I'm slowly coming to terms with myself but it isn't easy. Only Robyn knows and I'd like to keep it that way until I'm stable enough to fend for myself.  I want to believe I'll be happy with a woman but how do I get the happiness without the constant clouds of fear?

I find it ironic how now at 17, I've accomplished holding my cousin (and only friend) Robyn's hand for upwards to 5 hours. We'll be conjoined by the hands by the end of the school day.

I've been seeing double trying to catch up with her here at my new school. I don't stress too much because it's senior year. I only need to find a way to get by for two semesters and I can relax with my diploma by the end of May.

It's nerve racking, but I realize I should trust that I can control myself and my urges.

The gust of wind from students running down the stairs and towards the lunchroom is enough to send me flying, but Robyn's hold on me has me on my feet and in the present moment.

I am forever grateful for my cousin.

I have to appreciate and applaud the responsibility over me though. She's held a good grip on me since she finished applying her makeup in the car.

No one in my graduating class has acknowledged my existence, no one has even bumped into me. At most, I got some fugly stares from popular girls, but Robyn insisted they were just jealous. There were times where I had to pinch myself in the middle of class, because I feel like a roaming ghost.