• Standing there, staring up at him, his image blurred by the tears that threatened to spill over.
    The pain written across his face only broke my heart into tinier fragments.
    "I'm sorry, Louie, I really am...I just don't swing your way... I'm sorry." The pain on his face was nothing compared to that in his voice.
    I hung my head, not wanting him to see that the dams on my face had broken, the salt water that flowed down my face in little rivulets, but he lifted my face with his oh-so-masculine hands. I bit my lip. I couldn't help but feel that much safer when he made physical contact with me. Didn't matter what.
    This was the one I wanted to be with.
    I, however, was not the one for him.
    He, like most boys in our school, was into tits & hips. It's not my fault I was born a guy.