My Heart Is On My Sleeve - Post a comment

We sat there next to the fire, my hand in his, my brother next to me, with his sister next to him.

A pale figure walked by, my brother must have recognized him from basketball earlier because I heard him say, “Hey, you still drunk?”

Dumb 11 year olds.

The figure came out from the darkness and proudly proclaimed he didn’t drink or smoke or do drugs or anything, just simple enjoyed acting like an idiot from time to time.

I chuckled and he left.

We sat there a few moments longer before his mom came walking by with his two younger sisters.

“Hey Gerard,” she called, her voice sweet and calming, perfect at ten o clock at night.

“I better go,”
He stood up and let go of my hand.
“I’ll go with you,”

I had completely ignored my dads words earlier “I want you guys to go back, they can come, but there’s just too much going on right now.”

I stood up and entangled our fingers again; his touches sent shivers down my spin and kind of made me have to pee.

We walked down the road to his campsite before stopping to say good-bye a little bit before. I hugged him, feeling the sweat that was still there from our soccer game earlier, I loved that. It sounds weird, but I loved the warm sweaty feeling of his body. I moved my head up and connected our lips; a feeling of over joy had just come over my body and I moved again to hug him. Our lips connected once more, tongues colliding into a wet sloppy kiss, before he pulled away.

“You better get going, I don’t want your dad mad at me.”


He was leaving the next day, I didn’t want to leave him, I wanted to stay here in this moment forever.

I nodded, “Yeah,”

And with that I walked away, smiling for a reason I had never smiled for before.

“That took a long time,”
“Shut up,”


A Few Weeks Later


I don’t remember it at all.
In truth, it all seems like a dream.
Something that never happened, that it’s just what I wanted to happen and I’m imagining it.
I haven’t seen him for a few weeks, almost a month actually.
Every single day I regret not kissing him the day he left.
I have no idea why I didn’t.
Maybe it was because my parents could see us from across the campground.
Maybe my emotions had gotten the best of me.
Either way, I would do anything to go back to that morning, to know that it was real, to still be able to taste him.
He lives an hour away.
The only contact we have is messaging, and every other weekend, he doesn’t even have that.
I plan on getting his number soon.
I even have a ring tone for him especially already.
It just needs a number.
I gave him my home number.
But I guess he’s scared my dad will pick up.
He thinks my dad hates him.
We are celebrating our one-month anniversary in a week.
It sounds so stupid that I’m excited about that, but hey, he’s my first boyfriend.
If I could get my friend to listen to me, her one-year and my one-month would be on the same dates.
But no, she’s convinced her and her boyfriend started going out on the fourth, not the second.
I have it written down in my live journal, it was the second.
I want to do something special for him, but everyone has told me my ideas are too special for just one month.
A play list, I was told that’s more for a year.
Maybe I’ll give him this.
Maybe.
I sent him another story yesterday.
He’s at his dads so he won’t get it until Monday.
I’m worried he won’t care.
It’s a stupid worry, but I’m known for having those.