The girl looks from afar,

Admiring her love as he walks along

Everyday, she watches,

Observing his little quirks,

His distinct oddities

Sometimes, she even catches

That beautiful, beaming smile of his,

As bright as the sun,

Enough to disperse clouds of gray

If only, armed with that expression,

He would turn her way

If only, that stare was directed

At her, and her alone

But deep down, the girl knows,

It's impossible for a living being

To care for something already dead,

No longer there in physical form

So, with a small, but knowing smile,

The girl always thinks to herself,

"It's okay, you don't have to love me."

Meanwhile, crystalline tears

Prick at her glazed cerulean eyes

Dear Diary,

From a young age I've known that it wasn't going to be easy to find somebody to love. Always being more interested in Skeletor than She-ra. Watching ThunderCats for the muscles and swords, a half euphamizism by the way. Yeah, I pretty much knew I was gay since the day I was born. That didn't translate well into my social interactions with other kids.

I'm pretty sure the rumor of cooties started with some gay boys that wanted an excuse to avoid girls and despite the mysoginistic undertones, I don't blame them. Apparently I'm handsome or something, the only reason I've grown to know this is the various confessions of love I've gotten from girls. What surprised me most is when I get a confession from my best friend. It was the second year of middle school, we were cloud watching when she turned to me and said.

"I know you're gay, but I love you," Ava stated casually.

Now, I freaked out. I haven't came out to anybody and despite knowing I never really thought about it because it's just a part of my life that was just there. So, I shot up from the grass, looked her dead in the eyes.

"Who else knows," I asked quickly.

"Pretty much anybody that cares enough about you to notice the ways you look at other men," Ava answered.

"Well, shit and thanks for being honest with your emotions, bro," I replied.

"No problem, but I swear if you steal any of my men I'll smack you," Ava stated.

"Don't doubt it," I replied.

But now I'm in college, with a fuck ton of educated men in the same dorm as me, and it's sexy af. I want to be Ash Ketchem, but instead of catching all of them I want to kiss all of them. Except my roommate, he's a dick. There he is right now, bitch. He's walking over here with that god damn glare on his face. NAKjnak~~~

"Jason! Give it back," I demanded harshly.

"Why do you still have a journal, if somebody finds this it's immediate blackmail," Jason warned. God damn bitch, thinking he knows what's good for me.

"Most of it is information I'm open about, so I don't see what the big deal is. So, if you'll hand it back, that would be great," I growled in response.

"Only after I see what insults you used for me today," Jason sighed with a shit eating grin plastered on his face, how I've kept myself from punching him is beyond me. He started skimming over my writing, like the criminal he is.

"You are such a nerd," Jason chuckled. My face softened from a glare to something more content, over my time living with him, I've come to learn his only redeeming quality is his laugh. Literally the only one. So what he cleans up his messes, and he can cook, and he helps me with homework when I need it, and he brings me along when he goes out with his friends, and so what he showers short enough there's always hot water for me? You know what fine! He's a great guy and I hate his guts for being perfect. This asshole is just too good at being a decent person.

I mean, come on! I'm the gay one! I'm supposed to be throwing house parties for new neighbors, give them candles when the power goes out, invite them inside for tea, and let them pet my puppy! That's my agenda, but he's so much better at it for no reason! And his girlfriend is the best, she's so frickin cool.

"Hey, how's your girlfriend," I asked suddenly. He looked confused for a second.

"Oh, I guess I forgot to tell you. We broke up a week ago, Mikaela's not my girlfriend anymore but she's doing well," Jason answered.

"... What," I asked after a moment of silence.

"We broke up," Jason repeated slowly to make sure I understood.

"Okay, but you haven't been sad at all," I replied confusion obvious.

"It was a mutual break up, we weren't working out the way we wanted. We're still friends though," Jason explained. I must have seemed like the lady doing the equations meme, because this is by far the craziest thing I've ever heard.

"Holy crap, this is the most lowkey breakup I've ever seen," I sighed in disbelief.

"I guess," Jason replied.

"Cool," I said.

"Yup," Jason replied. Only now did I notice Jason was writing something on multiple pages of my diary.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! Quit it! That's mine to write without cortique," I snapped. He did one more mark and closed my book, handing it back to me.

"Your welcome," Jason said. He got up and grabbed a towel before walking into the bathroom. I grumble to myself, opening my book. Highlighted my words. I look through the diary to see what he did.

"I know... you... hate. me... buuut I. want... you to... know... I love you. It's okay. You don't have to. love me... back," I read outloud. The shower was running. My face is hot red. "Jason!"

"Yeah," Jason yelled back.

"That's a little gay bro," I stated jokingly.

"Well, I would hope so," Jason replied.

I’ve written at least a dozen drafts of this very letter. Stumbling on the words. I just needed to know you’re really invested in what I’m saying. I couldn’t possibly say my goodbyes in person, especially to you. You wouldn’t listen.

Before I go, I need you to see my side of the story.

Meeting you was life changing because I’ve never known someone who harbours so much love in the deepest core of their heart. I know everyone that you love and I’m so happy for them, jealous of them, and in debt to them. You are the sun and the moon and every single god damn star in the sky. That’s how I see you. You asked me awhile ago and I couldn’t possibly answer while looking into your eyes. That’s my own fault, I’m far too afraid of vulnerability and you deserve someone who can reach your depths alongside you.

I love you.

It’s ok, you don’t have to love me.

I would never say it to hear it back, I just think you deserve to know.

Listen before I go. I love you the most.

Sincerely yours,

and yours forever.

I love you when you tie me up

When you bend me over

How you touch my hips

How you pull me into you

I love you when I'm on my knees

On the hardwood floor

So I can look up at you,

While I do the job I don’t get paid for

I love you when you are mean to me

Inflict some tender pain

Handcuffs and whips and your finger tips

Pull my hair harder, make me beg,

Make me scream, go insane.

It’s okay, you don’t have to love me

Just punish me, please

Like the bad girl that I am

No need for words, no need for kisses

So you take control, and I’ll be submissive.

I wished this upon myself, and no one else-

I did not consider you, I dove headfirst,

smiling at the adrenaline rush but speaking only

of how it hurt when I hit the bottom

and could not swim back up.

I hoped to find you, somewhere in that water,

searching for something I had not lost.

I told you everything you did not want to hear,

you swam away. I followed. I begged for you to come back,

whispered,

"it's okay, you don't have to love me"

through the silence of the ocean that separated us.

I knew that you could hear me,

and waited patiently for you to return.

I dove in to save you, only to drown myself:

through all of this I had forgotten to come up for air.

I would like to believe that in the end you came back to me,

finding my body drifting and covered with years of algae and

weighing nothing at all. I would like to believe that in the end

you loved me, not out of want but out of need,

slowly drifting back to me after years of swimming against the current.

though, now that it's all said and done,

I'm afraid that you left the water long ago-

I fear that I've lost you, love, and in doing so

I've lost everything.

I just want to talk,

it’s been a month or so, and I can’t stop.

I gave up two weeks ago when my mind was low,

even under a writer’s block,

I can’t seem to get up and walk

to you, or even crawl for a savior,

I’d say see you later, but I’ve got about 24 hours and I’ll see you in my lair..

You think of me as a stranger, I’m mainly just a lone ranger,

I’ve scouted for months, I’m locked behind my punch-

I see the numbers, but I don’t care to crunch, I don’t need your help, let me run!

It’s okay- inhale:

Is the internet any help?

No!

Have you progressed by the slightest?

Ay!

Leave me alone you little

empathetic prick.

Alright now let it out....

I’ve saved my hate and capped it in a little tin box,

I leave it where my thoughts

aren’t-

constantly talking,

I don’t know you

and You don’t know me,

It’s ok, you don’t have to love me.

Just give me a second to give you some

company,

because I’m tired of running,

I’m tired of falling.

It’s okay

You don’t have to love me

I write in the back of his head

It’s okay

I’ve got enough love for the both of us here

I lay my head on his chest

but his arms are ice

and I’ve burned myself enough times to know I’ll never melt him.

~renata ferretti

For six years now, we had waited and searched for her. She just disappeared, there one moment, gone the next. People were starting to loose hope that she would come back. The constant stares were starting to fade. But I couldn't loose hope. For me and my parents, I had to keep hoping that she was fine. She would come home. My baby sister would come home. Alyssa would come home. Although I couldn't shake the terrible feeling that something bad had happened. Was happening. She was the responsible one. She didn't just run off like everyone seemed to think. Something happened.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

I ran like the wind. I screamed, I yelled. I couldn't stop the tears that kept falling out of my eyes and blocking my vision. Had Alyssa gone through the same thing? Oh god, it was like no one could hear me. Should I stop? Should I confront the crazy man chasing me with a gun? I have to be crazy to do that right?

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Never have I felt so helpless in my life. Ever. Then again, I have never been this brave either. Always the quiet, observant person. I stoppped running. I stopped, and I turned to face him. If he had Alyssa, God help him. I didn't know what I would do, but I wouldn't be a victim. Not when my sister needed help. I turned to face him. He stopped running, almost disoriented and confused by my sudden courage. He looked disappointed, like he'd have enjoyed a good chase. He had a deranged look on his face, eyes frantically darting about. His smile made my skin crawl. I could see, as he slowly approached me, how his pupils looked dilated and he had a dark look on his young face. Then he did something I didn't expect. I cut himself on his arm, looked down at the gushing blood, and then stared straight into my eyes and smiled. I backed away a step, my heart rustling. That was all the reaction he needed. He grinned, an evil grin.Who was he? What did he want? Did he have my baby sister? Why did he start chasing me after calling me "the troublesome one?" He had to know Alyssa. Right?

Then he raised the gun, and the world stopped moving. My heart sank. I was going to die. This was it. I was stupid. I had to ask him before he pulled the trigger. I looked up at his face again, at the same unfamiliar, horrifying smile. Something in me paused. I knew this man. I didn't know how, but somwhere, somehow, I knew him. He held the gun up in front of him and I heard the trigger snap into place. My feet trembled against my wishes, my voice stuck in my throat. I started to speak, but then he stepped forward into the streetlight. The world stopped moving. He wasn't a he. It was a she. It was Alyssa. No, no, NO! It couldn't be. It didn't make any sense. The nightlight had to be playing with my eyes. I wasn't thinking straight on gunpoint. But then she spoke. A rash, confused grumble came out at first, like her voice was stuck in her throat and she had forgotten to hydrate all day. The crazy look in her eyes faded for just a second, when she seemed to recognize me. She looked scared. "It's okay, you don't have to love me," she whispered in a rough voice, through tears. Before I could respond, she suddenly looked up and was confused again. The distant, deranged look was back in her shining eyes.

She was lost again. She stared into my eyes, and pulled the trigger. I moved, but too slow, in shock. There was a blunt force on my shoulder, and then a numbing pain. I felt the warm blooze ooze out of me and fall everywhere. My vision blurred and I heard myself faintly scream. I fell to my knees and looked up into her eyes. The eyes of the person who was not my sister. Alyssa was there, but only physically. Then she raised the gun to her own forehead. I screamed, and she shot, still smiling. For a moment, everything stopped again. Nothing moved, and Alyssa and I stared at each other in silence, tears in both our eyes. She didn't know me anymore. Then she fell to the ground, and the pain from my own gunshot kicked in. I couldn't process anything. The next thing I remember is waking up in a bright white room, scared, being calmed by the doctor keeping the Police at bay, my distraught-looking, tear-stricken parents running towards me from just outside the glass door.

x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x

Split personality disorder, they said.