'A' to 'Z' Rarl

H → Her

Carl knows Enid. He's been talking to Enid.

That's what he's been doing the whole time he can't hang out with me. I toss myself onto my bed, and the tears are brimming almost immediately. I know I shouldn't be angry; this means that Carl is opening up more and becoming more comfortable with Alexandria, but I can't help the jealousy that's aching in my stomach.

I saw them climbing back over the wall together. I don't know what they are doing out there, but I don't think I want to know. All I can imagine is her lips on his and I want to throw up.

I don't know why I'm jumping to conclusions. I don't know why is matters this much to me. I don't know why I'm bawling my eyes out. All I know is that I want Carl Grimes all to myself. He should be helping me climb the wall, helping me jump down with his hands on my waist. He could be smiling at me and laughing at my jokes. My hands should be in his hair.

It should be ME kissing him.

He burry my face deeper into my covers, choking out another sob.

But those desires are all wrong. Carl is a survivor, a savage outsider, a boy. Boys don't kiss boys. Boys don't touch boys. Boys don't love boys.

But I do. I want to kiss Carl. I want to touch Carl. I want to love Carl.

And I hate it.