He kisses me gently, arms tightening around me pulling me closer to him. I stay frozen in his grasp. I try desperately to make it real but I cannot join in the fantasy but I know it is no use. I don't feel the same way. I never did.
"What's the matter? I thought you wanted to." Lyle frowns at me.
"It's nothing, really..."
The funny thing was that there was something wrong; something seriously wrong - with me. I couldn't control who I was and who I wanted to be. Each day I struggled to carry on the pretence of who society expected me to be. And I was scared, so scared. Fear constantly encased me. Scared. So scared. And so, so angry.
Why was it like this? Why was I so different?
Us against them.
Them against us.
Only they don't know that I'm not on their side.
Why are there sides? Why can't we all be the same?
It's all quite confusing really. Lyle senses I am detached. The fear returns again. He can't know. NO ONE can know.
"Ever since we've been together you've been distant. Is there something wrong with me?"
I touched his arm, trying to calm him down. He mustn't ask me...
"It's not you, it's... me," I croak.
How could I say those words? Those stupid cliché words. I was so stupid. Lyle blinks at me, not believing a word I am saying. He was going to figure it out, he wasn't an idiot. Not like me.
Shock horror covers his face as realisation comes to him. He almost seems happy about it, like he wants to find something wrong with me. Something different. He grins slyly. It's a slow, twisted thing.
"You're not... you're not straight are you?" His sardonic smile is taunting.