𝘿𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙝𝙤𝙢𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝘼𝙡𝙚𝙭

Our new friendship group of five already feels like it's diminishing down to a four.

Since Kenzie and Jake joined our friendship group, Lucy and I have been hanging out with them a lot. I want to say Cami joins us, but every time we ask her, she refuses. Then she has a go at me for hanging out with them and not her and I can't win. Ever. No matter how many times I hang out with her separately.

"You're replacing me," She reminds me for the umpteenth time when I come back from a cinema trip with the other three. Like every time she says this, I sigh, tell her that I would never replace her and make new plans with her so I can try to make her a bit happier.

I try to refrain from calling her a hypocrite, but oh my God is self-containment hard.

I find myself sat in a prom dress boutique one weekend while Alex is spending the day with Chloe. This time, none of us bothered to ask Cami to come along, knowing that an answer of no would be inevitable. We've tried with her, but it's safe to say, we've given up. She doesn't want to make new friends, that's OK.

Jake and I are sat in chairs outside the changing room while Lucy and Kenzie are inside trying on dresses. Jake is visibly not happy with being sat in such a feminine store, while I'm content with being anywhere with such gratifying company. Cami can be overbearing, and it's nice to have time away from her at least once a week and hang out with people who aren't so spirit dampening. Does that make me a bad friend?

"It's the end of April. Prom isn't until June. Why are we here?" Jake asks although I can see he's enjoying it. He's taken a liking to Lucy, and I tell he doesn't mind seeing her in some of the dresses she's been trying on.

"It's because once you buy the dress that you want, this store doesn't allow anyone else from your school to buy the same dress. If they want to get the perfect dress, it's better to do it quickly." I reply, feeling a tad bit gayer. I soon add, "That's what I heard the shop assistant say, anyway."

"You're so gay, dude," Jake laughs. I chuckle along with him.

I know it's only a friendly tease. With Cami, I'm not sure she'd be teasing in a lighthearted way if she were to ever tease me about being gay. I have honestly concluded that I don't think she will accept me. I know I'm letting my fears and anxiety do the talking instead of my head, but the more I think about her and the things she's said since Alex came out, the more I realise that she doesn't accept our community and who we are.

"Do you have a boyfriend yet?" He continues. "Or at least a prom date?"

I lean towards him slightly, "You can keep a secret from Cami, right?" He nods, "I do."

He sits up straight and looks at me in animation, "No way, who? Since when?"

"I don't want to reveal who just yet but I've been seeing him for nearly two months, now. I know it's not that long, but I seriously like him," I reply, feeling a light blush spread across my cheeks as I state that I sincerely like him because I do. So much.

"Bro, I am so happy for you. I respect it not wanting to reveal who it is, as well. I can't imagine how hard it must be for you. Know that when you do come out to everyone at school, I'll be there to stick up for you if you get any shit for it. Same with Kenz."

He gives me a playful punch on the arm, to which I return it, "I appreciate it."

It sounds weird but Jake not treating me differently because of my sexuality means much more to me then I thought it would. He treats me the same as his straight guy friends. Fist bumps, play fights, 'bro' hugs. He simply sees me as any other guy to him, rather than 'a gay'. That doesn't define me, and he understands that.

"Kenzie and I were planning on going to pride in June. Like, I'd go as an ally. Kenz said that's a supporter. I don't know. Do you want to come?"

My heart does a little flip of happiness, "Yeah. Yeah, that would be great. Thank you."

This. This reaction is what I so desperately want from Cami. From anyone, really, but more so Cami. Acceptance. Support. The longer I'm putting off coming out to her, the more I can see what her reaction will be like when I do, the fleeting thoughts about her reaction accompanied by the sinking feeling in my chest.

I can already see the look on her face, the utter disappointment taking ahold of her features and the words "but are you sure?" coming out of her mouth. Not in a loving way where she would only want me to be sure before I make big decisions as being gay is dangerous sometimes. No, I mean the 'because I don't want you to be gay as I don't accept it' kind of "but are you sure?".

I know I shouldn't be putting it off like this. I should get it over with, and if Cami doesn't accept it, then she doesn't. I will have to take that and move on from our friendship, no matter how painful. If she's willing to accept it like my dad was, fine, I'll continue being friends. Though if she isn't ready to take it, then there is no way I can continue being friends with her. I'd never put myself in that situation. The hurt it could cause would not be healthy for me at all, and I deserve better than that.

The anxiety surrounding this is taking hold of me, and I need to let it go. But I can't. The words feel impossible to say when Cami's around and I'm petrified of falling into a panic attack every time I try. There have been a few occasions where I've sat her down with the intent of telling her, but I go off on a tangent and talk about something else instead because I get too scared.

Before I can panic myself further, Lucy steps out of the changing rooms wearing a gorgeous navy blue figure-hugging dress. There's a slit up the side, showing off her leg, and I can see Jake staring directly at it, swallowing. Lucy doesn't notice as she's too busy squealing at her reflection in the mirror.

"This is the one! This one is the dress!" She exclaims breathlessly, as though her dress is a man and she's talking about how 'he's the one'. Like I do with Alex. Alex.

I snap myself out of my momentary trance about Alex and begin to clap excitedly, all the while telling Lucy to "give us a twirl." She does so, and I start to squeal alongside her. I can be as gay as I want to be around these people and they don't care. They love it. It matters very much to me.

Kenzie soon stomps out of the changing rooms, having tried on all of the dresses she picked out and still not found the one for her. Jake taps her on the back as some sort of comfort before turning his focus back on Lucy. If Kenzie takes any offence to the lack of care for her disappointment from the boy, she doesn't show it. Instead, she laughs and whispers to me about how she ships the two together. I agree with her.

We soon leave the shop, all with smiling faces due to at least one thing. Lucy has gotten her perfect dress, Jake has undoubtedly fallen for her, Kenzie is fangirling, and I feel as though I belong for once in my life. This friendship group is what feels like home.

After dropping my friends off at their respective houses once we have finished for the day, I drive home with a smile on my face knowing that Alex is there waiting for me.

I think, so far, the excitement of coming home knowing Alex is there for me when I arrive is one of the best feelings I've ever felt. That and falling in love. Falling in love has to take the lead, but the excitement of my boyfriend is not too far behind. I won't get to feel that when he moves out but as our relationship will grow and we'll find ourselves living with each other once again, I will, and that's pretty great.

I begin to ponder over the conversation I had with Cami about falling in love a few weeks back. I'm not too happy with her attitude at the moment, but she said some smart things for someone who seems to care so little about a defined group of people because of love.

For example, she said about how, when you love someone, you feel their emotions alongside them. Not as strongly as they do, of course, but you still feel it. I did that when Alex moved in. I silently cried, hoping he didn't hear me because I felt so guilty about something that wasn't my fault. I can feel his frustration.

She also mentioned about how you care, and you give care. I care so much. So much so that I offered Alex a space in my home, my family and my heart. I taught him things about himself to which he showed me something about myself too. I try to be there for him as much as I can, and I try to persuade him to talk about it. I guess you could say that's giving care, right?

The last important factor is the being aware of their flaws and not giving a single fuck about them part. I love Alex's flaws; they make him beautiful and human and uniquely him. They make me love him.

For Cami to know all of this, she must be in love herself. That's what she said at the beginning of the conversation. So, maybe, her attitudes are less than kind and more discourteous because of who she's with, whoever they are.

Maybe this person has changed her similarly to how Alex has changed me. He did so with me positively, but perhaps this mystery person is a negative impact on her life. It goes to show that a relationship can change so much about a person and it's that change that indicates whether or not that person is right for you.

I try to stop thinking about such topics and focus on the present; what's happening right now. I'm driving home to my boyfriend, and I don't need to be all fretful around him. He's going through things, and I need to be helpful and a reassurance. It's about him at the moment, not me. I'm not going through anything unfortunate. Only good. Very good.

When I home, I rush up to my room as though someone is chasing me, knowing Alex is up there. I want to hug and kiss him and for him to reassure me that that he's alright for now.

So that's what I do. As soon as I'm in my room, Alex is the first thing I see, sat on my bed, smiling as soon as I walk in the room. He holds his arms out towards me, and I easily fall into his embrace, kissing him and asking him if he's alright. The fact that he doesn't answer tells me that he's not and my heart sinks slightly.

"What's wrong?" I ask with concern already overtaking me. He stares down at his phone that he's clutching in his hand, and I can see that he's shaking slightly. I take his free hand in mine.

"My mom called me." He says. His eyes are watery, as though he wants to cry but won't let himself. However, there's no sadness there, only anger. My lips part slightly, but no words come out. Because what am I supposed to say? I don't know what his mother said.

"What did she say? Is she OK?"

"She called to say that she left my dad and is somewhere safe, but won't tell me where. She doesn't want me to look for her or to contact her. She doesn't want to see me and— and I don't know why. I don't know what I did wrong, I—" He says, and as he does, I notice him get visibly angrier at the situation.

He grips his phone tighter, so I pry it from his hand and discard it on my chair. He clenches his fist together, so I place my hand over it and rub circles on it with my thumb until he loosens the grip. When he does, he turns his hand over and takes ahold of mine.

"Hey, breathe, OK? Breathe." I say softly.

I know he's not having a panic attack and is getting angry over a situation he has every right to get upset over. Still, I also know that taking a deep breath and focusing on staying level-headed is the best way to calm down. Telling him to breathe is the best I can do. All I'm able to do is offer supportive words.

As he looks into my eyes, he begins to calm down. I suck in a deep breath, to which he copies me, and I nod because he's going to be OK. He places a hand on the back of my head and brings me into his chest, placing his cheek on the top of my head and holding me to him, as though I'm the one who needs comfort. But, I guess, holding me in his arms, me being here, is his way of feeling ease. Maybe my body hear was giving him comfort, like his gave me.

I don't know why his mum doesn't want to speak to him or see him, but abuse is a fucking terrifying thing to go through, I know because of how I've witnessed Alex react to it firsthand. She must have valid reasoning, and I trust that she will tell Alex soon. She needs time. So does he. When she feels safer, she will come to him. I'm sure if it.

As I bring my hand up so I can wrap my arms around Alex's neck, he suddenly grabs my wrist mid-air, and as I look up at him, I can see that he's frowning.

"Your marks looks fresh. Have you been getting anxious today?" He says as he runs this thumb over the marks on my palm. They were from when I got slightly anxious in the shop—no big deal.

"I'm anxious everyday, love." I remind him.

"You know what I mean, baby. What happened? You didn't have a panic attack, did you?"

"No, I didn't, but it doesn't matter. We're focussing on you right now, not me."

"Matthew—"

I cut him off, "You, OK? Aside from angry, how are you feeling?" I swiftly change the subject, away from me and to the person that needs the attention right now. He sighs, knowing that I'm too stubborn to allow the topic of conversation to fall onto me.

"I don't know. Mostly alone. Before you say you're not alone, you have me," Alex puts on a fake British accent, which makes me laugh at how terrible it is, "I know I have you. You and, it maybe be weird to say this, your mom are the only people I feel like I have. And even though I've got you, I still feel alone. Not lonely. Just alone. But you're helping the feeling, though."

"I wasn't going to say you're not alone. I was going to say that you're kind of correct."

"What?"

"I don't mean it in a bad way at all. I mean that, realistically, everyone is alone in everything. Regardless of how many people you're able to talk to, or how many people are by your side through any of it, the only person making sure you're getting through it is yourself. The only person who can properly make an effort and help you is yourself. And that's terrifying, I know. But it's also beautiful because it shows real strength."

I place a hand on his chest, and I can feel his heart beating. He's alive, and he's here, and that's beautiful. He's survived this far.

Alex nods and exhales, "I'll try to remember that."

"I plan to be by your side through everything that you might go through. In the physical sense, you're not alone, because I'll be here. In the making an effort and helping yourself sense, you're alone in that. Everyone is. I cannot make you decide on anything. The reason you've gotten this far is that you've made an effort. You tried. It takes a lot of strength, and I know how hard it can be."

"Wow." He says after a moment of taking what I said in, "That's so true. When did you get so wise?"

I pull away from him and sit, holding his hand in mine. The sheer comfort of it tells me how important this boy is to me, "When I realised that relying on other people was unhealthy and that I needed to help myself to progress. Which wasn't too long ago."

He's quiet for a second, his eyes searching mine, before he speaks again, "I think, you know, it's a hard truth to digest. That's why I rely on you for comfort, why I get so angry over things that go wrong. And the fact that you can even face it shows how strong you are. Because I honestly know that I wouldn't be able to properly face the fact that I'm responsible for my own life."

I shrug, feeling bashful from the compliment as I play with the rings on his fingers. Admitting my strength is something I've always struggled to do, "I may seem strong, but I feel weak."

Anxiety has left me feeling weak and having to rely on medication as well as people has made me feel more vulnerable. The only thing helping me build up strength is Alex. Cami should also be someone else who is helping, but she's not.

"You're not weak at all." He says without missing a beat like he was expecting my reply. I have to admit again; he does make me feel secure. "Can I rant about you for a little?"

I suddenly get a little nervous, not quite sure what he'd want to rant about me as I'm honestly nothing special at all, "As long as it's not about me being a terrible boyfriend, go ahead." I joke although I'm kind of not kidding.

I don't know how I stand on the boyfriend part. Am I a good boyfriend? Or am I horrendous and say all the wrong things?

"Absolutely nothing of the sort. I just want to brighten your day a bit," He replies, nudging my arm in a way that communicates that I have nothing to worry about with what he will say. "Apart from being in love with you for three years and finally having you, there's another reason why this relationship stands out from past relationships."

"Oh? Is it because I'm worse than them?" I jest.

"Oh, hush. No. There's a complete contrast in what you say to me to make me feel better compared to my exes and friends. I hear, 'I'm here for you', 'you can talk to me anytime', 'I understand how you're feeling'. Those people claim they understand how I feel when they don't and hope I'm better soon, even though they don't ask how I'm feeling. It's sympathy that I don't need. You're different. Empathetic, you are. You give a shit enough to make sure I'm OK, to make sure you know how I feel so you can put yourself in my shoes and look at the situation to give me advice. You help instead of just being there to listen to my ranting then move on."

He's not looking at me. Instead, he's kept his eyes trained on our conjoined hands. I don't say anything, I only listen, as I know that's what he wants right now. To let my know what he's thinking. That's important to me, and most definitely to him.

"I didn't tell you, but I went and had a talk with the school guidance counsellor," He continues. "I told her about you, naturally, about how you help me, what you say to me. She said you're an empathetic person and how it's such a rare trait to have. A lot of people are sympathetic, that's common, but it's so hard to find an empathetic person. And here you are—my boyfriend. You make me feel OK, and that means a lot. The fact that you're here means a lot. I don't need sympathy. I need you."

Tears spring up in my eyes, yet I keep them in. It's a sudden feeling and I would have never started crying at anything like before Alex. It's hard to come to terms with the fact that I genuinely hold meaning in someone's life. I hold so much insecurity and dislike, so much shame in myself that I've not allowed myself to see the valid parts of me. Alex helps.

Maybe I am empathic. That will be a trait I will hold within myself with pride. I won't show it off because that will take away from the impact that it has. I will only show it to the