her girlfriend.

sixty-two

Everyone knows I have autism. Everyone. The stans, and now all my exes and everyone I went to school with know. If they got social media.

It was a trending topic last night. Not me. Sabrina was the trending topic, because of me, though. I didn't like that.

So many know now. I even got texts from my mom, dad and my brothers, wondering if I'm ok with it. And I'm not, really.

How can I be ok with it when I didn't even know I was diagnosed until just a couple months ago? I'm still accepting it and learning about it.

There's nothing I can do about it now, though. Except lay in this hotel bed and rant to my girlfriend who's still half-asleep.

"It wouldn't even b-bother me this much i-if there wasn't such a-a-- a stigma, I guess, around mental h-health and autism, e-especially."

Sabrina only groans in response. Eyes still closed and looking like the most relaxed, carefree little angel. "Mmmhmmmmm,"

Can't even be annoyed with her right now. This girl is too damn cute, even more so when she sleeping. I can't.

I feel calmer just looking at her, though. I guess, seeing how relaxed she is right now is making me a little bit relaxed, too.

Thank god for that because I've been awake and ranting for almost an hour now. A full hour of talking to my half-asleep girlfriend.

"Come cuddle here, baby," Sabrina's words are barely understandable but I get what she means when she opens her arms.

Can't resist that, if I'm being honest. And don't tell nobody, but I love being the little spoon and being held the way she holds me.

I don't get a chance to even settle in, though. The alarm set on her phone goes off and I hear her mumble, "Fuck."

"Can I rant to you while you're doing whatever you need to do?" I don't know why I asked because we all know that's what I'm gonna do anyways.

•••

There's that stupid award show thing today. I'm not going, no fucking way is that happening but my girlfriend obviously is.

I'll watch her on this hotel TV, though. And be proud as hell but also glad that I ain't there to be as anxious as I was at the airport.

Anyways, because of her having to do that red carpet shit, that means she gotta get her face beat with makeup. She look good but it's a lot.

I'm just used to her naturalness and that kind of beautiful. I love her freckles too and the makeup covers that up.

I ain't no stylist, though. The gay guys that are makeup artists and the real stylist know what they doing, I'm sure. I hope.

They could be making her look like a motherfucking clown and I wouldn't know. I have never had my makeup done before in my life.

I'm literally straddling Sabrina's lap, jaw dropped as I watch the makeup artists use all this different stuff to make her look like this.

"You're so pale," the shades their using on her skin might as well be fucking paper-colored. Girl is so damn white.

These makeup people have been here for just a few minutes and I've been called cute and cutie multiple times by Sabrina and them.