Part 2

Hi, I’m Patrick. I wish everything were as easy as calculus, because calculus is pretty easy and everything else is pretty hard. Well there’s history too. History is also easy. So isn’t Spanish I guess, but it’s such an annoying class. How do they expect me to keep everything together like that? I have to keep track of all those workbook pages, notebooks, vocabulary lists, and flash cards. I ace all of the tests but I lose half of the stuff, so I get Bs. But yeah, anyway, other than that stuff, life is pretty hard. Oh well, of course, I don’t even count Theology, it’s not even a real class. Well I mean I would say that outside academics life is pretty hard, but then I’d be ignoring AP Physics, because AP Physics is fucking hard.

Anyway, life is hard mainly because I suck at it. I feel so lonely all the time and I don’t think anybody understands me. High school does that to you. I thought high school would be a big improvement for me, but it turns out it’s just a lot tougher. I guess kids here are nice, everybody here, except for a few guys, seem nice. But I don’t know, I don’t think they take me seriously, I don’t think anybody takes me seriously. I feel like I say the wrong things all the time, and people kind of take me as a joke, not as someone they want to be friends with or get to know or whatever.

Well, everybody except Jason. Jason really is someone different and special. He’s an amazing guy, and so interesting. Every time I talk to him, we end up getting into a deep conversation about something. I’ve never had that kind of conversation with anyone else. It always makes me feel so unbelievably good.

I think I like him as more than just a friend. Which is scary, you know? I always kind of felt that I was gay. I remember at basketball practices in junior high, I would be fixated on the guys on the skins team. It was very distracting! I also remember not being so interested in the playboys that other guys used to bring in back then as well. It was something I should’ve seen coming I guess. I’ve never felt like this, though. Every time I see him I feel like I’m going to burst with joy. Especially on days like today when he’s wearing his blue polo shirt. It’s very hard to keep my eyes off him. I mean of course I get to stare at those blue eyes of his when we talk, but that’s not really enough when he’s wearing the blue shirt. It’s the lightest, gentlest blue you’ve ever seen, and it made his eyes light up and sparkle, even on grey mornings in that gloomy cafeteria.

I dream constantly about us going to Mexico together. Get out of this high school, and find some quiet place. I could imagine him and me in a car with an open top, something from the 50s. He’d give me that smile like he always would. He’d always be there, he’d never leave. He’d be wearing that shirt, we’d pick up dust, red dust from the New Mexico desert. We wouldn’t need money, we’d sleep in the car. We could steal food. Every night I’d look into his eyes and I’d kiss him, and I’d fall asleep on his chest, and that’s how it would be for the rest of our lives.

I wish I had the fucking courage to do something like that. Fuck I’ll be behind some desk or something in 8 years not in Mexico with the guy I love. Fuck, I’ll probably still be lonely like I am now. I can’t expect Jason to always be with me. He dates a fucking cheerleader from his hometown, fuck, I’m better than any cheerleader but I have a penis.

Have you ever loved someone so much that it hurt? That’s how I feel now, but I can’t stop thinking about him. I love him so much, but I don’t know that it is love. Can you love someone without them loving you back? I don’t know. I wish I could look into his eyes and know, and let him know when he looks back into mine. I wish we could go to Mexico.