Work Text:
Her.
I will always love her.
Her eyes,
her laughter,
her everything it's all so wonderful.
Our parents are close and so are we, hanging out ever since I can remember.
We play games together, have movie marathons, hugged and wrestled. And that was all okay, until we got older and grew even closer.
My dad told me I can't hug her like that anymore, that we can't hold hands as we sit close together.
Why?
He'd never really tell me why, just that it's wrong, that we are too old for that now and that us being so close is "against God".
Maybe I wanna be against God if it means I can cuddle in bed with her again, to hear her laugh as we hide, huddling close in the closet while we play hide n seek with her mom.
Her parents don't like it either, but at least we can still play and talk, just no more hugs, hand holding and sitting close as we play games on my old basement couch.
But that was my favorite parts, the way she'd squeeze me tight so I wouldn't let go to soon and that the hug would last forever, holding her soft hand in mine as we walk to school talking about what we would do at her house that weekend, when she sat on the floor in between my legs and rest her head on them while we made matching houses in Minecraft, my cat meowing in the background.
My eyes were always on her, her beautiful blue eyes, her soft fluffy brown hair and all the freckles she said she hated, even though I thought they were perfect and could never imagine her any different.
We could be close at school, where our parents couldn't see. The other kids would stare and whisperer when we sat together at recess, holding hands on the swings. But we didn't care, well I didn't care, I was happy with her.
But all the whispers and our parents became to much for her, she stoped holding my hands and sitting as close as we could. And would slowly stop hanging out with me as we got into high school, she had made new cooler and "normal" friends leaving me all alone as they laughed and made fun of people, the same kind of people we used to be, the happy kids who held hands and cuddled close at night.
I had trouble making new friends, none of them ever as perfect as she was, no one could ever replace the beauty she was.
I miss the happy loving kids we were.
I miss the little girl she used to be.
I miss how she felt while we layed close to one another.
I miss her eyes.
I miss her hair.
I miss her freckles.
I miss her.
Her.
Her.
Her.
Her.
God, everything would be so much easier if he really was a her.
Maybe he would never had left if things were different.
And maybe then they would let me love him.
I will always love him.
Him.