The lies

Love is a variety of different emotional and mental states, typically strongly and positively experienced, that ranges from deepest interpersonal affection to simple pleasure. Most commonly, love refers to an emotion of a strong attraction and personal attachment. *This is a Narry fanfiction about love and about to hide* *Made just for Narry fandom and them only*

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1. 01 Doubt

Lies, my whole life consists all that. I couldn't stop having that silly smile on my face when I told everyone I was feeling good, because although even that was a big fat lie. I lived a double life, yet I hadn't dared to leave the closet. I was about thirteen years old when I realized that I preferred guys, the ones as had the same sex as me. I was fifteen years old when I talked to my mom about it and there after, it was as if I just wanted to suppress my own identity from everyone and from the world. I went to pubs as all my friends did, and secretly I did fancying about the guys as attracted me in there. I always went home and then jerked off, in lack of sex and all that. It was as if I contented myself with the little things and as if I didn't want more. I didn't dared to even look at those as was visible as was gay, I didn't dare go to those who were like me. No, it felt as if that was the wrong way to go. I wanted that somehow make God to open the door, for me I didn't be need to decide when and how, not on my own. Maybe I'm instead needed someone who pushed me down the stairs and told me that I ought to pull myself together? But I chose to put a curse all over myself. I jerked off, I watched gay porn and I imagined a different life, while my life went on as if I were normal.

 

Yes, I had always loved fashion and clothes. I was the guy who loved pink pants and colorful shirts. I was the guy who secretly fixed the eyebrows and waxed off all the hair on my body. I was outwardly that guy who cared about his appearance, but inside me it was a way to trying to get everyone to see my true self. There was no one around me as suspected anything, even when I painted my nails black. I had rings on my fingers, jewelry, and all the things as normal guys just looked at, but they never bought. I was everyone's opposed, but the problem was that didn't I look like a fagot. I behaved like a regular guy and I was social. No one saw how I suffered and no one saw that I most would have preferred to do something else. I was always funny, I always tried to talk to everyone and I never wanted to make a single friend disappointed, maybe that's where my problem was?

 

"Come on, Harry!"
My boss Liam looked into the back door and he frowned. Yes, I had been standing there for a while and just daydreamed. I quickly took up the box with clothes and went back to the store. It was soon Christmas and we had to work overtime. Every second mattered, at least according to Liam. I worked in a clothing store and that was where I belonged. I knew what the customers would buy and I was good at helping them. I was the staff as everyone asked for help, just because I was so good at my work. I was proud that I was at the right job, at least when everything else in my life was chaos. I opened the box and I put up the shirts where they would be, neat and almost gently. Everything would look like as if nobody had touched it and everything would be orderly for the customers. Liam was a good manager, he knew what he wanted out from us and he was careful to correct us when we did wrong.
"When you are done with that, you can take your lunch!" I heard Liam say behind my back. "You look tired, and you need to eat?"
I smiled at him. He quickly looked at his wrist watch and then at me again.
"Maximum one hour and then you'll be back!"
I nodded and I finished my work. We were soon in the month of December and I knew it would mean less daydreaming and more work. I still loved to see peoples expectant gaze over stuff. The housewife who bought a sweater for her husband and in front of her she saw how happy he would be when he opens the package. I help everyone in the same way, sometimes even innocent guys, who was together with their first girlfriends, and for the first time in their lives want to give her underwear. Those guys was the most fun to help. They blushes and they was just embarrassed over the fact that they did this choice.

 

I chose that small restaurant around the corner. Their food wasn't perhaps not the best food in town, but I was fed up for the moment. I chose salad, as always and water. Yes, I kept my eye on my body. I didn't want to end my life like a fat old man. I wanted to keep the little pride, I had, over myself and therefore my exterior became an important part of my life. That was the only thing I could totally control and which I was good at. I slid down by a window and the food came to me in a matter of minutes. I wasn't in the mood to talk, so I chose to look down on the food as I ate. My life was empty. It was as if I was able to land in routines every day. I woke up in the morning, made a useful smoothie and showered. I chose clothes after mood. I always took the bus to work. I didn't understand that about taking the car. It was easier to sit on the bus and daydream. I worked until we closed the shop and then I took the bus home. Sometimes I stopped at a pub to talk to the few friends I still had, but usually I landed on the couch. Three days a week I went to the gym. I exercised until the body didn't breathe more and then I went straight home to sleep. "You should get yourself a partner!" My mom used to say all the time. She was still unsure whether I was gay or not. Therefore, she decided to just say partner. Sometimes I just laughed at her, but there were moments when I wondered the same thing. The world was filled with people and it should actually be the one over that suits me, although not everyone was gay. I shouldn't be alone all my life. No, I should also get to know true love. There was another thing as also reminded me over how coward I really was. Although he, with capital H, had been standing in front of me, I wouldn't even dare to try. He would pass me on the street and still not get me to do anything. I had probably already met him, but the chances were small that it would be an us, wherever he was.

 

I pulled the jacket around me when I came out on the street. It was getting dark and the people seemed to have plans. Me, myself, went back to my work and slowly I tried to quit pondering over what I hadn't. No, I couldn't feel that sorry for myself. I had health, I had money and I was still young. What else could I demand from life? Love wasn't for everyone, and maybe I was one of those who would find happiness elsewhere?

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