His soft, brown eyes, his awkward, bitter smile, his black, fluffy hair and his familiar fresh, amber-tinged scent. He was perfect, he was everything I would want in a partner, yet loving him was far-fetched—we were both guys.
I looked at myself in disgust whenever I thought of him. I felt shame whenever he looked at me, because loving him was cruel, loving him was shameful, loving him was disgraceful. Yet was I wrong for loving the majestic sight of him?
He was the heart of every group he was in, he was the light that shone in my dimly lit path, he was a leader, he was strong, and most importantly—he felt real. Yet maybe, just maybe, he was really just my Tammy.
Maybe I wasn't really looking at him, but instead looking at my true identity.
Maybe I was just disillusioned by his gaze,
Maybe this was all just a silly phase.
That's what I would always say to myself—yet I knew it was all fake, I knew it was all a façade, because I truly loved him, I do, yet I can't, because he's not mine, and he's looking at someone else—someone more beautiful, someone kinder, and someone more normal.
I've tried to move past him, telling myself he was my Tammy. I tried to look for better, distract myself with others—yet I always came crawling back to you. I want to be the queen to your king, I want to be the cleric to your paladin, I want to be your best friend, and most importantly, I want to be yours.
Yet I knew it was far-fetched. I knew it was too much, whenever I thought about you, I only felt disgust. So I'll continue to see you, and continue to hide, ‘cause in a time like this, you would have never been my bride.
