clandestine affairs in a cruel world.

clandestine meeting no. 1 // pt. 1

As i stare into your eyes, screaming for attention... i remember something. Something intriguing. Remembering that you and me can't be a thing. We can't exist together, but we can't exist without each other. What is this called? "Amor Prohibido" like Selena Quintanilla once sang? What my mother told me never to do ever in my life? Something that i should've never practiced because it's against people's belief?

Illicit affairs is what this is. But i can't help myself as i feel your touch, oh so heavenly. We don't speak through words, rather by touch, and as your eyes meet mine as you stare into my lustful eyes, we unite. Most would just call this being "horny teenagers". Maybe we are..., but who are they to judge? Who are they to judge what i love or who i love? As long as i'm happy, right?

Right...?

We kiss for the final time after what felt like hours, getting interrupted by the knock on the door. " Boys, are you ready? " my mom asked.

"Fuck," we whispered.

We put on our shirts, dark as our affair. "Hey, don't forget to put on your perfume menso." Arilino teased. "Lo haré solamente para ti," i teased back.

We are meant for each other, our backgrounds is what's iffy. Coming from Latino parents, it isn't the easiest to tell your whole family you like the same sex. Especially when you haven't come out of the closet and you hear your relatives about how homosexuality is the "devil's work." I just tend to ignore it, cry about it later. Who cares, i'll just move out when i have the money. I do love my parents... but our views are entirely different. From what i've heard, Arilino's parents aren't the most supportive either. They don't suspect a thing when we go to each other's houses... or at least that's what we think.

" Ya vamos a salir para la iglesia, ama?" i questioned. She answered, "Si mijo, ven ustedes para el carro ahí está tu papá."  Walking towards the car, i looked over to Arilino. His head was down, as if he were covering his eyes to make sure nobody sees him. We get in the car, my dad listening to his Norteño music. "Apá, bájale aquí está Arilino!" i groaned. " Ay no, estoy seguro que a él no le molesta, verdad mijo?" he asked Arilino. After what seemed like a year-long pause, he responded nervously with: "Mándame? No no señor, esta bien no se preocupa." Arilino... he seems out of it. What is it? What's bothering him? I stare off into the clouds, longing the ability to spread my wings and be free. To be able to show my love to him publicly without any shame, but what a cruel,cruel world and what cruel,cruel people.