Blake September

So. Currently, my WIP (that story I mentioned I wanted to write, with the closeted gay guy?) is in it's third chapter, at 8000 words, and I want to post, but I haven't figured out a title yet, so... I'm gonna have to leave y'all hanging for a bit while I figure that out. But I'm having fun with it, and even if it isn't my best writing (thanks depression, you suck) I'm looking forward to sharing it with you. :)

Considering writing a book about a closeted gay guy with a bisexual best friend, and a crush on a straight dude, so that might be happening. (is anyone remotely interested in reading something very gay?? Because it's going to be very queer if I do get around to writing it)
          
          I'm in a rough place with writing right now because depression and my dad is trying to get packed so he can leave our house and not come back, so there's a lot going on. But I can certainly try.

Paladin is gone. My brother deleted my file to spite me and I can't seem to locate the paper version, so I have no way of continuing or even starting again, because he left my notebook OUTSIDE and it got destroyed by the rain. 
          
           And as a cherry on top, my parents are getting divorced.
          
          I found out yesterday and it's thrown everything a bit off track. 
          
          I'm not going to post in Wattpad for a while, so I can let myself deal with this. 
          
          Sorry to anyone who was reading Paladin.

Ah! Thank you so much! I am currently working on a plan for a full length story, but I'm in an exam year this year and don't have much time to dedicate to that. I'm hoping to get started at some point over the next two weeks. Thank you so so much : )

He aches to correct you.
          Tell you the truth.
          But he gets scared
          Tongue tied
          Panic creeps in.
          Sick to his stomach.
          
          "She"
          "Girl"
          "Daughter"
          
          But he's not.
          He.
          A boy.
          A son.
          
          He's not a girl. 
          
          He aches to correct you.
          Tell you the truth.
          But he gets scared.
          
          Not today,
          He says.
          Maybe tomorrow.
          Sick to his stomach.
          Tears in his eyes.
          
          "She"
          He aches to correct you. 
          
          "Girl"
          Tell you the truth.
          
          "Daughter"
          But he gets scared.
          
          Maybe tomorrow.
          
          Tomorrow is a brighter day.
          
          
          //I suck at poetry, but I wanted to write something for my friend who just came out as a trans guy. I love ya, AJ.