Fiction–Kinda

“Why don’t you just shove a feather up your ass and whistle dixie while you’re at it?! No, you cannot go with that boy.”

She’s referring to my boyfriend. Mom is never like this with my brother and all of his freaky girlfriends. Like we have some family legacy to preserve or something. Who gives a shit? Except my mom.

I want to go to the 4th of July field day with Brandon–just to be with him, to walk around, holding hands, eating funnel cake and stuff like that. Big deal.

I guess Whoville is not ready for a same sex teen couple. Yeah, but how will they ever change if nobody gets off their ass to do something?

But I don’t want to walk hand in hand with Brandon to make a point or to piss someone off.
I just want to hold his hand,
because I like him.

This post has 1 Comment

  1. abbyladybug on July 4, 2005 at 6:59 am Reply

    I spent only two days last week not being able to hold hands with the man I love, because we were with his son, and his son didn’t yet know who I was to his Dad. This is one-millionth the problem you describe, but I must admit it drove me CRAZY! I felt unfree. Humans aren’t happy without choices and freedoms.

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