june fourteenth (in the wee hours)

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by athenifying

by athenifying

Dear Fat Cat,

Oh jolly! (who uses the word jolly, anymore? Surprisingly, my fond obsession with old words/phrases is infecting my writing here) I'm writing so many entries today not because I like writing within your pages, Fat Cat, but because, you see--February was four months ago, or around there, and that means Valentine's Day was four months ago, February 14th. And I jolted up five minutes ago, at 2 a.m, to write all this down, because something happened on February 14th.

And because I trust you, Fat Cat, to not spill my secrets. Anyways, you're a mere twined together mesh of pages; you wouldn't be able to sprout legs and tell another journal, would you? Fancy that! (My inner Brit coming out).

Speaking of coming out, I texted Oliver the other day(yes, that's his name and yes, he gave me his numnber!)--and told him that I was sexually attracted to males and that he's free to un-friend me anytime. I don't know why I added that last sentence, especially since I do not want him to not be my friend, but within minutes he'd replied, and I waited ages to read it because I was so fucking scared.

But it just said, "Noted. You're gay. I like that. ;)"

HE ADDED A MOTHERFUDGING WINKY FACE! What could that mean?

";)" I knew it all along...?

";)' I'm gay, too...?

";)" Too bad I'm homophobic;...?

THAT LAST ONE.

UGH.

NO!

Anyways, back to topic (my cheeks have been burning from a simple text and I haven't looked at my phone since), but February 14th was the day my parents separated, two years ago. Funny, right? On Valentine's Day, of all days! It probably had something to do with the fact that their loveless marriage couldn't survive another year and on the day of couples, they spent the romantic day screwing their respective people they had affairs with in the first place.

Oh, how lovely my life is.

So, I'm fifteen and in boarding school. I've let the cat out of the bag! (but you, Fat Cat, were so darned fat you couldn't even squeeze in the first place) And I don't have any parents to go home to during half-term or anything like that. Which is pretty useful, because when I skip school (how I met Oliver), they can't complain to my parents or suspend me and expect me to move out and find another home, because I don't have one!

*cue bitter tears seeping out of my eyes*

Oh my God, Fat Cat, I wish you were a secret older brother I had so that you could hug me and give me hot chocolate with the chocolate powder not probablymixed in, because my tears are blurring the page and I desperately need someone to wipe them away.

Everything's blurry now.

I swear, the ink is flowing off because it's drenched in my hideous, salty tea--

MY PHONE'S RINGING!

NO-ONE'S SUPPOSED TO CALL ME AT 2 A.M OH GOSH WHAT DO I DO WHAT DO I DO?

Is it a rapist or pervy person? I'm putting my pen down for a while, Fat Cat...

FAT CAT! It's Oliver! And I've accidentally pressed hold on his call!

after the call

Oh. My. Gosh!