**** sequel to Note To Self.
Paint my skin with yours, make me new. Make me beautiful, make me art. Make me whole.
A runaway, some would say. New York City, big, noisy, and filled with so much opportunity one could get lost in it all. Harry finds himself sleeping in past noon in southern Manhattan when he escapes home in a desperate attempt to discover himself, and to get a true shot at love with a strawberry blonde that, sometimes, still wants nothing to do with him. In a sequel to Note To Self, Harry struggles to push himself into true adulthood after spending a lifetime never once being left to figure things out on his own. With sleepless nights from too much city light and noise, spending too much time indoors, he finds himself frozen in time when it becomes obvious he'd left home to pursue a future that doesn't exist in a big city. Pouring piping hot cups of espresso for tired NYU students and serving New York's most delicious blueberry muffins, he becomes complicit with merely existing alongside someone who, still, does not love him back, and eventually, even that isn't enough to make him feel whole.
This is the story of how a stubborn, hotheaded green eyed girl learns to share, and how Harry learns it's okay to be selfish.
"Maybe we'll grow, maybe we'll learn, and maybe it'll be okay, but it won't be home. Home is comfortable. We aren't here to be comfortable."
Twitter // @hydratedharries
Written: May 2019 - June 2020
Ages 14+ (lesbian concepts and some profanity)
This is not your everyday love story, okay? It's not a chick flick either. The events and themes within my pages have meaning, depth, truth-and most of all, reality. You are about to be taken on an adventure about a girl who's life is not like everybody else's.
I look like a normal teen girl, I mean, I have hair and two eyes and two hands and feet like everybody else, but I couldn't feel more different. I have two moms, yes. Let's just get that out there before you start reading and close my diary like everyone in my life has shut me out of theirs. All I want is a normal life with normal friends who don't judge me because of my home situation. I don't even remember the last time I went on a sleepover or called somebody my age.
I don't mean to be a downer, because it does get better. Life gets better. Struggles are only temporary, I know that now. And by my last words reach your eyes, I've come a long way, and have grown to see potential in myself.
I'm sharing this with you because I want to make a difference. I know now that I'm not the only one in the world that feels alone. I've been there, done that, and there's more loneliness to come, but for now, I feel more prepared for it. I know how it feels to sit by yourself at lunch every day and how it feels to watch others go to prom with dates and feel like shit because you don't think you'd even have any friends to go with. Please ready my diary. I am much older now, and much more wiser, and I can't wait for you to realize the potential in yourself, too.