her girlfriend.

seventy-one

I have no idea why the fuck I felt empathy last night. I think that might've actually been the first time I've ever experienced that.

Don't know if I like it. I think I'd just rather stay emotionless because now I actually care and I really don't. It's hard to explain.

Rowan isn't exactly my favorite person in the world and if I'm being brutally honest, I don't really care if she cries. Last night, I did.

I don't know why I did but because I cared and felt empathy, I have to go with my girlfriend to her best friends house. I am regretting it now.

Like I don't hate the kid anymore, I just don't like her. And I still think she's secretly in love with Sabrina which is a whole other story.

"Why are the palms of your hands lighter?" that's the question that takes me out of my thoughts and back to reality.

I realize that I'm just waking up, in the best way. Receiving so much love from my girlfriend, and getting to hold her hand.

Holding hands is amazing. It really is. It's underrated, though. I feel like holding hands is almost has good as sex. Maybe. I don't know.

It's just really intimate. More than people like to think. I just really like it, so that might just be me. I don't know much.

"I dunno," looking at my own hands, I start to wonder the same thing and then just shrug my shoulders, "Why?"

"Curious. I just wanna know everything." Sabrina states, making the simple sentence sound romantic as fuck.

"You already do." our eyes lock when I look up at her. And I swear, it's so easy to lose yourself in her blue eyes, they're like heaven to me.

Sabrina's eyes are simply stunning. I love how light they are but then when she gets mad or really into somethung, they darken up.

It's like her eyes reflect how she's feeling and right now, her pupils are dilated and the shade of blue is as light as ever. That's love.

I bet my eyes are the same. Just green, not blue. I got them green eyes that pop out due to my dark skin. I've grown to love my eyes.

If it was possible for two women to make a baby, I bet our baby would have the cutest eyes. The cutest everything, honestly. But anyways.

"Tell me a story." she simple says, hands twisting at my curls.

"I-I was seven-ish, and I had some a-anger issues and so w-whenever I-I was mad during school, they'd give me a w-wooden baseball b-bat and tell me to hit the tree with it. I was seven and I fucking broke th-the bat."

"That's my girl," she laughs at that little story, arms tightening their grip on me and bringing me closer, "God, I love you."

I'm blushing now and it's not really visible but she can tell. I know she can. I get a whole bunch of kisses all over my face for that.

And all I be thinking about now is how perfect the day has started off. I guess, the rest of the day can't be too bad now. Let's hope.

•••

I hate getting myself ready for things. It's too hard. I mean, just getting outta bed is hard enough and now I gotta get dressed. No thanks.