Hey
I suck in a breath, waiting a moment before I continue, but nothing comes through. He’s probably not near his phone, or maybe he’s busy reading a book or doing something. Whatever the case, I take the moment of silence to continue.
Me
I didn’t panic because you wanted to call me your boyfriend. I panicked because I didn’t want the first time I heard that word coming from your mouth to be in front of some stranger. We never talked about labels. We said we’d take things slow.
You want to call me your boyfriend, but I want to feel like your boyfriend, Huds, and I don’t.
We don’t text like we’re dating or send each other thirst traps. I called you baby,but you didn’t say it back. Every time I hug you in public you get weird, which is fine if you don’t want to do the PDA thing but you should know I want to touch you like all the fucking time… not just when we’re alone. I mean, when we’re alone I like how you touch me a lot obviously. I wish you were on my couch right now so you could touch me.
Shit, that sounds fucked up. I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant…
Fuck
I sigh, the words coming out like rapid fire. I can’t stop them. Even if I wanted to.
Me
I had this whole thing planned, and it probably doesn’t matter now. You probably want nothing to do with me and I don’t blame you. But I wanted to take you out on a date. A real date where we could like be together and maybe you’d let me hold your hand underneath the table and take you home and kiss you like a real boyfriend would. Then you’d say it. Then you’d tell me you had a good time with your boyfriend, with me. And I’d tell you I did too, and it would be this thing, this romantic thing between us. I wanted the moment to be special I guess because you’re special to me.
I realize as I read my text, it sounds kind of weird and clingy and also like I’m calling himspecialand I panic because I don’t want him to think I mean special like… because of the autism. Shit!
Me
Not because of the autism.
Shit, that sounded bad. I meant special like you're different than other people.
That doesn’t sound any better. Fuck!
I mean you’re different because you’re a guy obviously
Fuuuuuck I’m fucking this up even more. I’m so bad at this.
I’m the worst boyfriend ever. No wonder you hate me right now and probably don’t want to be with me anymore. I’m a fucking idiot!
Never mind forget I said anything, I’m just making things worse. You just mean a lot to me, Huds. Sorry for being an asshole. Is there a way to delete these? Fuck.
Good night.
I groan as I let the phone fall onto my chest and look up at the ceiling.
“Real smooth, Trey. Real fucking smooth. Now he really will run for the fucking hills and let everyone know how crazy you are on top of it.”
I slide my phone in my pocket and head for my bedroom, setting my phone on the nightstand when I get in so I can undress myself and crawl into bed. I’m just closing my eyes when I hear the chime of a text. I open my eyes wide, grabbing for the phone and my heart stops when I see the text.
Huds
I don’t hate you.
I debate answering him, because clearly I’m not in the best shape to be discussing my feelings or my stupidity. But of course, I can’t help myself. Knowing he’s awake, knowing he’s on the other end of the phone…
I breathe a sigh of relief at his text. And then another comes in.
Huds
But I get if you don’t want to be with someone who doesn’t touch you in public or call you baby or take you out on romantic dates and who can’t handle the store.
