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Another You

You Said You Loved Me

Austin's P.O.V.
I looked at Alan dreamily. In this moment, nothing could tear us apart. I looked at him dreamily, blinked slowly, and gently started kissing him. As he moaned softly, I got on top of him and kissed him deeper; more passionately. He moaned, "Baby, there's something I need to ask you..." And trailed off.
"What's wrong babe?"
"It's just that... this whole thing feels kind of artificial to me. I never knew if I was gay or straight or bi or pan or anything, really. I love you, and I know that much, but this just can't work out...I'm sorry. Plus, I don't want to fuck my best friend. That's just weird if you ask me, mancrush or no mancrush. So... Umm... Yeah. G'night, Austin." Oh shit. All I could think was, "AUSTIN, I KNOW YOU HAVE A CRUSH ON THAT CAIRO GIRL, BUT YOU ARE NOT A MAN SLUT. YOU ARE A JEDI. JEDI HAVE NO EMOTIONS INVOLVING RAGE. KEEP YOUR SHIT TOGETHER AND EVERYTHING WILL BE OKAY."
But everything wasn't okay, and I knew that very well.

That night, I didn't sleep at all. All I could think at 3 in the morning was, "OH DAMN, WRONG IS PRONOUNCED WRONG. Nice one, Carlile. You should be the mayor of Funnyville. But do you know what? Funnyville doesn't fucking exist, and love shouldn't, either. It tears a hole in your soul that can't be filled, no matter what is used. And that hole causes permanent damage. Nothing could fix it even if it tried.