Forced smiles. Fake words. They are her little "friends" that help her get through the day.

"Hi, how are you today?" Good

"You look a bit tired, you okay? Yep totally

"I'm so excited!!" Me too

As she smiles and laughs, inside, her heart bleeds. Inside, darkness consumes her with pain and hurt.

But what if. What if she's not the only one? What if others understand her pain?

But what if they don't?

asdfdsasdfdsasdfdsa

I sit, not knowing what to write about. Not knowing where to start. Not knowing a lot of things, actually.

Who am I?

What am I supposed to be doing?

When is the right time to start "doing"?

Where am I supposed to be?

Why am I here?

I don't know.

So I continue to sit here and type out my thoughts

All the while not knowing.

Some people view the world in black and white. Good and bad. Right and wrong.

They coat our differences, our uniqueness, our individuality, with layers of paint to cover up the things that make us who we are.

Their paint is black. Black as night: still, unmoving, unchanging. A single color everyone and everything is demanded to be.

But no matter how hard they try, no matter how much paint they use. Each and every time our true colors will shine through the layers of dark paint.

We will rise. We will fight back with our own mixture of paint, colors as vibrant as the rainbow.

Created from the courage of the leaders, the pain of the victims, the determination of the supporters, the rage of the people.

Our paint will continue to shine and proclaim, bold and strong:

We will fight.

I thought I was over you. I thought all of the pain and love and want and hate was at least dimming, at least starting to weaken. I was so sure.

But how wrong I was.

Oh, how wrong.

I was still the pathetic, longing person I was. Nothing had changed. Nothing.

Maybe our summer apart will change things. Maybe this distance will stomp out the last fire left (just like how you admirably did when a kid set a tissue on fire). Maybe this distance will catch me from falling again (just like how you swiftly caught me when I tripped).

Maybe this is all stupid. But just maybe, I'll get over you.

I stare into the dark abyss of the night sky. It stares back as if it holds every single answer and mystery of the universe. My eyes are lost in the deep, black sea, captivated by its beautiful uncertainty.

Until something catches my eye. It's so subtle, so faint that I first think I had imagined it. Yet as I continue to watch, I see it again. A flicker of light.

And it happens again.

And again.

And again.

Sometimes long, sometimes short. At first, I watch, puzzled. What are the flashes? Why do they differ in length?

Then I notice.

It's a pattern.

3 long, 3 short, 3 long.

3 long, 3 short, 3 long.

Over and over.

Does anyone know what it means?

Sitting on my bed

I open the soft curtains

Slide the cool glass window

The fresh, crisp air flows in

Gently brushing my skin

Calming my thoughts

But as I lift my eyes up

To the dark, beautiful night sky

There is not a single star to be seen

Where did they go?

Why did they disappear?

Had all of our light chased theirs away?

I'm 8 and I always like masculine female characters the most in shows. Just cuz they're cooler. I'm 10 and I sometimes look up YouTube videos of girls kissing. Just cuz I'm curious. I'm 13 and I have a huge crush on a female celebrity. Just cuz she's hot. I'm 15 and I have a crush on my best friend. Of course, it's just cuz she's nice.

Now, I've started a club that works to spread awareness and acceptance for the LBGTQ+ community. I have an amazing girlfriend who loves watching lesbian shows with me.

Just because...

Maybe I'm lesbian?

The Moon's presence lights up the dark heavens. She gracefully drifts across the night sky, and I long to bask in her soft, warm glow.

But I am the Sun. I chase the Moon and generously receive precious glimpses of her elegant, captivating beauty, yet I can never be with her.

So I watch. I appreciate her mere presence and ignore the feeling of want, boiling inside me.

And when the Moon talks about the stars, I listen.

When the Moon calls me her best friend, I agree.

So I watch, wishing I could be one of the stars in the night sky.