Her.
This is something that just came out of nowhere; I was wondering "what should I do now?" and this just cam out. So here it is. If I were to rate it I'd say maybe R, but I don't do that anymore 'cause I HATE RATING THINGS. So there. Also, I think this is happening somewhere between 1930-1950, I dunno why.
Happy birthday to me! Yay.
I Loved Her
I loved her.
It was wrong, and it was twisted and I hated myself for it; but I loved her.
I hated myself for being different, I hated her for caring that this wasn’t right, that it wasn't the perfect relationship; I hated her for never giving it a chance, and I hated society for not giving it a chance-banning it before knowing it.
I hated the world and I hated life and God and sex and the air I was breathing; but I loved her.
I loved her, and when at last she gave in, and both out rosy, perfect lips touched each other-it was heaven.
When I ran my hand through her straight, long hair-there was nothing better than that.
When she came yelling my name-nothing in the world was wrong.
Feeling her breasts on mine, stroking her stomach with my fingers, being between her legs- was the most perfect anything could get; as right as anything could be.
When she pressed her hands to my breasts, when she licked my most intimate areas, when she whispered, finally, that it was okay, that she loved me in spite of everything-it was Paradise.
When we walked down the streets, holding hand and kissing and laughing, we didn't care that people stared. We didn't care that it was wrong, and that we were both girls, and that God will punish us and everything they said; we didn't care because we fit together, and it was love and it was great.
And now I'm looking down on her, from the skies; it's not heaven here, because she is down there. But she'll come to me one day, and we'll hold hands again. And I don't mind she's having sex with other girls, and I don't mind about the kissing and the licking and the wetness; because none of those girls ever heard her say "I love you".
