More of that crazy fiction. More word vomit.
One more day of nothing. I sat around. Showered. Waited for BF’s friends to wake up and want to do something. I couldn’t walk anywhere, which is something I desperately wanted to do. I was over my little sick streak, and I was determined to get out of there. I didn’t want to stay in “the box” as I had been.
I wanted to clean BF’s room. It smelt like dirty laundry and boy. So, I convinced BF to do laundry, and I threw in all of the clothes I had brought. A shirt, pants, socks… I wore one of his shirts, which was really a dress on me. I wore some sweat pants too. BF said that he had never ever let anybody wear his clothes before, and that I was adorable.
I was really swimming in those clothes though. BF is huge. All muscle. His biceps bigger than my thigh, and no fat on him. He is so tall that he has to lean down to rest his head on top of mine. He can carry me with one arm and not miss a breath. He is Hawaiian, and I give him crap about it all of the time. People call him Tlingit, which he has some of that, but he doesn’t like it when his other ethnicity isn’t acknowledged.
He also has a terribly nice smile, and only after stalking him while on the trip a week before did I realize that his biggest smiles only came out when he either got called out on doing something wrong, or when I was mad at him. He hates his smile though.
We got laundry done, and got dressed, and then settled for his gay friend to come over. They smoked and I watched, because I wasn’t sure about what was making me sick. I really wanted to eat, and sleep. Running away is so boring in a big town. I considered leaving to a bigger town, and doing it on the fairy, but I didn’t have enough money for both BF and I. BF also still had his job, and nothing was going to take him from that, per Tabitha.
I thought to get my iPhone back from my best friend before she left again to go see her real family. We had no safe way to do that though. I also considered “breaking” into my foster parent’s house to get more clothes and grab my perfume, which I loved dearly. It was very expensive.
More sitting, laughing, listening to music. Gay friend left, and we were alone, yet again.
BF’s roommate/fake foster parent was going to kick him out, and BF made friends to come and be his roommates. He was going to be on the street, and that would take me with him. I really would have no choice, as I has nowhere else to go but with him. (I could have made arrangements, but I am loyal.)
The plan that was made was to make me turn myself in, and then come back when he had the place set up with the new roommates. We didn’t really think that he would really be kicked out, or that he would have to move.
We both got ready to leave, and walk. BF was going to walk me to my default treatment center. I was going to restock in clothes, grab things of value, and then leave again when I was given the signal.
BF walked with me the whole way. We walked in the rain, because it always rains here. It was only three miles, but there are only two roads to where we were going. We had to use trails and back roads because I didn’t want to be picked up by the police before I could turn myself in, and we didn’t BF to be seen with me. He would get in trouble.
We talked about what we did and went over what we liked about the little vacation I had. We stopped a lot to get out of the rain for a minute, and hug. We had to walk by the police, and BF was scared of that. He wouldn’t just walk. So we had to go around. That was a pain in the ass. I was tired.
I thanked him for doing such stupid things with me, and that nobody would have done that for me. He was probably my second best friend. I don’t trust anybody nearly as much, even if he is a terribly stinky bad liar. He can’t lie for his life. Not even over the phone.
We were almost there when BF decided to say goodbye and leave. We didn’t cry, because we are hardened criminals. (Once I stole donuts from a store, and he beats people up…) I gave him my secret phone, and he turned it off. More hugs, and we told each other that we like one another. Then, we finally separated. I couldn’t imagine not being around him. He had been ride by my side, and I on his, for days. Not a minute apart. I walked away, and cried. I don’t cry, but I was not going to have freedom or my friend or sleeping in late or my phone or privacy. I wasn’t going to be around BF. Sad. I cried, but only for a minute.
I still had this feeling that we weren’t close, and that maybe he didn’t like me as much as he claimed, and maybe I was right about us not being a good match… So I didn’t admit to my feelings and stopped crying. That was a sissy thing to do. 🙂
Tomorrow brings a new chapter. Thank you for reading, and have a good day. Feel free to comment.