The queen and the queer

You know how it’s all going to end.
With you leaving me. Because eventually, these feelings will fade, and there will be nothing left to conceal the dullness, the moodiness, the insipidity of my character. Whereas you, you are looking for excitement, not moroseness, beauty, not hideousness, life, not death.
Don’t say that, you know I-
What do you know? Can you possibly be so sure of how you will feel towards me or I towards you in a year’s time? Or even less, a few months. We were never supposed to be anything more than friends. But sometimes, being good friends and being around each other so much, can tempt us into a mistake. We know that it shouldn’t be, but what can we do when the feelings of attraction catches hold of us? You’ll grow bored of me, I’m sure of it.
I won’t. You have no right to say what I will do – I know who I am and what I feel! And at this point, I want to be with you. Why does it have to be so hard?
Because, my dear, I know too well the traps into which young, amorous birds fall. We burst forth with immeasurable energy, and we do not even think what might lie ahead. I know, because I know the kind of person you are; and I have always wondered how it was, by what salve of miracle, that the two of us could have ended up as friends, let alone really close ones. It was a mistake since the beginning. We should never have spoken, never have pushed aside the fact that we are two very different people.

You are a queen, and I am a queer.


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