Art-ificial
I MAKE BOYS CRY
- or -
HOW I CAME TO OWN A CHEST OF BROKEN HEARTS I DIDN'T REALLY WANT
***
''My heartbeat quickens, as his hand accidentally brushes mine.
He looks up, and our eyes meet.
My breath catches in my throat.
Right now, right here, he is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.
He continues talking, pretending nothing has changed, but his eyes- his eyes never leave mine, and they, too, are talking to me.
While he calmly continues his anecdote, his eyes are asking a shy question, are wispering in awe and wonder at finding his own feelings mirrored in mine, laugh out in joy at our shared realisation, then suddenly stutter with a touch of fear, a flicker of nerves, but then speak loudly of his growing excitement - that puts the lie to the calm and even tone of his voice - as, never looking away, his warm hand carefully, deliberately, touches mine again.
And thus, it is confirmed.
I am in love.
And, miraculously, so is he.
Poor schmuck.''
***
Some are normal, some are strange, some are IT-geeks, some punk, some mainstream.
Some are idiots and others highly intelligent.
Some look just as bad as I do, and some are drop-dead gorgeous.
But there is one thing, they all have in common.
They all cry, in the end.