My Special Someone

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Gay and Lesbian  |  House: Booksie Classic


An overwhelmed celebrity ponders the answer to a question he is asked about love.

Submitted: August 13, 2018

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Submitted: August 13, 2018

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I have been interviewed many times in my life. Surrounded and swallowed up by thousands of cameras, microphones shoved down my throat, people chasing me like packs of hungry wolves.

You would think it’s scary, but I am always relaxed, partially because I’m used to it, but partially out of the disconnect I feel from it all. I feel just like a character, or a doll, an intricate one cut from diamonds.
 

I smile, wave, wink, pose and sparkle for my fans. I am given many compliments, how girls daydream about me, how boys wish they were me, I answer their questions with an elegance I have learnt from many years of fame, even when they are questions I have already answered countless times. I am patient, I do not mind.
 

However, there is one question, one that I never quite know how to answer.
 

“Do you have a girlfriend?” a group of shy teenagers asked me when I was spotted in the local café.
 

“Who are you seeing right now?” An interviewer for a magazine asked me with an eager smile on her face.
 

“Do you have a special someone?” I was asked on live television.
 

Every time, I find myself lost in thought, recalling and pondering. The answer I give is always a shrug and a maybe.
 

I do not want to say yes, the truth is far too uncertain for that.
 

I do not want to say no, the truth is far too definite for that.
 

So, instead, I say, “Maybe.” That is the appropriate response. Even I do not know my situation and I have stopped trying.
 

This is usually not enough for them, a lot of the time they try to push out the truth from me, with a, “Come on, who’s the special lady?” and a beckoning microphone pointed my way. I never give in.
 

I do get tired after dodging that question. I slink back home as soon as I am able to, taking the quiet, out of the way back alleys I’ve learned of.
 

I do have someone who is special to me, someone who I love.

My love is something no one else can ever know of, it is something no one could possibly begin to understand, or even believe.
 

My love does not come in the form of a girlfriend.
 

I am going home until I feel a tug in my chest, something telling me to instead take the other path. I obey it immediately, knowing full well what it means. I feel my lips spread into a smile.
 

The path winds down through the forest, through thick grass and then into a clearing where there’s a vast lake.
 

His favourite spot.
 

I do find him, eventually. He is lying underneath the glassy water, close to the surface but not quite breaking it.
 

However, he does break it, when he sees me.
 

When he sits up, I see that his hair is the colour of a deep, sea turquoise. I haven’t seen his hair that colour before. He smiles and waves me over.
 

I sit just by the water, watching him as he approaches me. He pulls himself out of the cold lake and sits beside me, immediately shifting so that his body rests against mine.
 

Holding him is a hard thing to describe. I can never seem to find the right words, perhaps because they don’t exist.
 

It is light and soft. Somewhat cold on the surface, yet it warms me inside. His hair feels just how children imagine clouds feel. I can pick him up with ease, he is that light. He runs a hand across my arm and it leaves warm shivers in it’s wake, making my skin glitter.
 

I feel all the naturally introverted exhaustion within me melt away in his presence.
 

He presses kisses to my exposed skin and asks me, not with his voice but with his eyes, if I am okay. I nod and a big smile spreads across his face.
 

We sit in loving silence, as most of our time together is spent.

The outside world would never understand it.


Not only that I am in love with another boy but one of another world, one that only appears during special times. A boy that changes between colours like a kaleidoscope and lives in songs, paintings and exists only in the prettiest places. A boy who has no voice, yet speaks to me clearly with his ever-changing eyes and his hot and cold touch.
 

These moments, this love, him. It is all for me and me only.
 

He is my special someone.


© Copyright 2018 Akira Moon. All rights reserved.

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