WAY TO DIE #1
HEARTTHROB OF DEATH
I myself am a person of my word. A trustworthy fool in this world that has no other reasons than to help ones mortality. The twelve inch retina screen that I am writing this from has no idea how many times I have been stupidly lead away from my true intentions.
The first thing I do when I wake up in the morning is think of him. Felix's beauty. His golden hair that aimlessly falls into place on his head. His eyes, the color blue that has a certain air about it, almost like waves on a distant sea, the color blue in which you look out into the ocean and the horizon and cannot see the line between the sky and the water.
The thought of him makes me want to die as is, to put my in-between the point of no return and safety. Felix has a girlfriend, and that kills me to say. She doesn't deserve him. Not in the slightest. Nothing compared to my endless holding to fight off the urge to blurt it out when he's with me. That kind of urge should be taken as true love, even if he doesn't know it. The pure fact that he is dating her kills me dead already, but alas, I have managed to survive with my pride taped to my chest somehow.
The fact that I love Felix isn't enough. He's a work of art. A beauty in this horrible world. This horrible world of ugliness and darkness, he is my only light. The reason I wake up in the mornings. I can never have him, not in the slightest. Even that night two months ago is long gone. A lost memory in my never ending system. A memory of happiness.
His skin is against mine. I never thought that I could be so close to someone. Let alone, him.
But, I said another time will do. Now, he has her. Well, he always had her, he never stopped, even that one night.
No, I'm not saying that...
Anyway...
Felix's recent obsession with his hair while he was over last week was more than a little. I swear that he spent at least half a whole hour in there, moving around his blonde strands into the perfect position.
"Does this look okay?" he asked me, striking a pose. I try to keep myself from hesitating when I talk.
"Felix, it looks fine."
"Is 'fine' enough, though? Marzia wants everything to be perfect-"
"And so your hair shouldn't matter."
"But Marzia-"
"Never mind Marzia, you look beautiful." I then realise, big mistake.
These things happened regularly with his stay. I couldn't help myself, which really, I should be able to do. My own brain can't even help, when in such a situation. I won't say "his beauty is too much for me" just because of being the fact that 1; that is way too cliche, and 2; that's absolutely not true! Sure, he is quite beautiful, handsome if you must say, but I can handle it, right?
Anyway, his obsession with how he looks may take over when he leaves the house, but if you'll trust me, you'll believe me when I say that he does not care one bit when he isn't. If he's lounging around at home, he won't even attempt to look in the mirror. Not within his slightest of decisions that day.
Felix's shape is quite different too. He's pretty small on a scale. Compare him to Wade, and he's a midget. But even so, he's as tall as me, which is...perfect, in a certain way. Particularly when we kiss...ed. When we kissed, because...we don't kiss now.
Either way, my noticing of Felix's look is definitely something against me. Against me and the...emotion that I hold towards him. Another problem added to my long list of ones concerning him. I don't know what I'll do, but for now, I don't know if I can do anything.
