I can't seem to find a good prompt or idea to base off today. Probably because I'm still too concerned with my injured thumb and the fact that I don't feel too good because being stranded for 1.5 hours gave me a bit of a cold... So I think I'll be posting something I revised for a lesbian tragedy months ago. It was rejected, of course, but The feedback from them was helpful. Anyways, enjoy!
I never could have imagined myself being like this as a child, but as I grew older I came to trash the idea that love only existed between males and females. Never had I been so wrong in my life. Around the age of 15, I first found attraction to a girl. Or more like… I became fascinated with one at first. Although I, myself, was a girl too, I never perceived myself as such.
She was everything I never was and everything I wanted to be. Perhaps it was just jealousy, my mind whispered to itself. Perhaps I just wanted to be popular as well, but it didn't seem the case because popularity would require me giving up some aspects of my hobbies. And I never wanted that. I simply couldn’t imagine myself ever giving up my artistic side for the shallowness of popularity. But then, being popular could mean that I’d have more opportunities to get close to her. But it seemed too far-fetched with what reputation I had already established in my junior high life.
But I still couldn’t deny the fact that my gaze would always fall upon her, or I would just subconsciously seek her out from the corner of my eye. Oftentimes I stole glances of her as breaks were given in between classes. And there would be times I would look up my friends in the same class as hers as an excuse to see her more. Eventually, I came to ask her to be my model for my sketches. She never replied and I passed it on as a joke, but she did know my reputation in arts and she very well respected that. I was honestly surprised that she even heard about me when I was counted as the isolated weir girl from class B. Yet I was thankful and it spared me the embarrassment of having to explain in detail.
I showed her my sketches, and ever since, we would stay after school and she would choose the best locations where I could sketch her. They weren’t good ones, but she seemed to enjoy the attention. And for the first few times, I sketched her, I was quite embarrassed. Was I even allowed to look at her this much-
She found out we took the same route home so eventually, we fell into the pace of walking home together. The closing distance surprised me more so than anything that's ever happened in that year and I was always left wondering if I should be grateful for it. It also expanded the locations where I could sketch her and each time I presented my finished sketch, she would be ecstatic at how I could capture her in such fine details. If only she knew how I saw nobody but her.
My attraction for her grew as the days passed by. I saw and embedded into memory much more than she would ever hope for and much more than she would ever know. I was positive by then. I was falling for her.
It took me months, maybe an entire year before I ever gave thought to tell her this. Even I was in shock. I needed much more time for this and oftentimes, I would climb up on the roof to ask the moon and the aloof clouds for guidance. It never did help but something about the clouds in the night sky always managed to give me peace.
On the day I resolved myself to admit things that needed to be said, she just looked at me in horror and she was shocked that all that time spent together, such a thing was my motive all along. I was misunderstood and was frowned upon. I consulted to the evening sky once more that night and hoped it would help me this time. It gave me nothing but silence. If silence was the answer, maybe I should stay silent. I nodded to myself and stood on the window ledge. I jumped. And as I fell, I was greeted with the same evening sky that had comforted me in all those times. I'm glad to have seen such beautiful clouds illuminated by the moon before everything went black.