I bite my bottom lip, trying not to cry. I never cry in front of them.

I'm going to hell. I'm pretty sure she's going to drag me there herself.

You turn me on.” He cups my face, brushing my hair away from my eyes and a tear off my cheek.”
“God, you turn me on. You're driving me crazy. I want you to need my hands on you. Do you?

He's a reminder of what I want to feel everyday, whether it's with him or on my own. He's taught me that who I am when I'm with him feels too good to sacrifice for the approval of everyone else. The way I dress, the guys I talk to, the games I play... it's all plastic, and when I'm with him, I'm gold.

My eyes burn with tears, and I'm so tired. So tired of holding back everything I feel and want to say. So tired of being someone I'm not and making mistakes that I didn't have any fun making.

I'm going to hell. I'm pretty sure she'd going to drag me there herself.