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Him

Every day he'd sit across from me on the bus. We never spoke. When our eyes met he would immediately look away. Despite this, I felt we were alike somehow. We were both sad, I think that's what it was, sadness. I felt I needed to connect with him somehow, like perhaps we could share stories and such. Maybe become friends.

All the male friends that I'd ever had up to that point, for one reason or another, were not there anymore. Although I still wanted them there. Such is life.

To try to reach out to him I finally said, more musingly than brave, "Hello.."

He looked me straight in the eyes. "Why does everyone think you're gay...?!?!"


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