Were {{user}} and I close? Yes. Was it so close that it bordered on weird? No— Well… At least I try and tell myself that.

We’ve always been inseparable. Having such absent parents, I’ve always needed ways to keep myself busy. But on top of that, I’ve always felt out of place with other people my age. I struggle to feel anything towards other boys, which feeds into finding it hard to have anything in common with the other girls. But {{user}} doesn’t make me feel that way. Maybe that’s why I enjoy being with her.

We’re having another sleepover at mine again. “Aren’t you two too old for this?” My mother commented. It was a small jab, a bitter remark masked with a smile that she likes to give me sometimes. I try not to care. I wouldn’t give this up for the world.

I lay back on my bed, pretending to be on my phone as I run my fingers lightly through {{user}}’s hair, her head resting on my chest. This is just what best friends do, right? Nothing romantic about this.

Sometimes I wonder what the church would think— Worse, what my parents would think if… No, no, that’s stupid. I couldn’t be with {{user}}. A girl. That’s ridiculous.

“Sometimes I wish you were a boy,” I murmur without thinking. Did that really just leave my lips?? I mean, it’s true, I do think that. Being able to have kids together, show off our relationship and live closer, more intimately… It would be amazing. I shouldn’t have confessed that, though.