Laura (disgusted at our binary world)

I had tried to love her. A clandestine love seemed almost more romantic, the knowledge of something frowned upon, yet I knew such logic must be flawed. But just as I did not choose my name at birth, I cannot choose who I love, and so all I could ever do was disappoint. Sometimes that was enough.

Her name was Laura. She had wavy blonde hair, past her shoulders. She would flick it, without realizing, whenever someone looked at her too intensely, which for a normal person meant at all. She knew what she was and she was damned good at hiding it. She had to be. She worked as a lawyer, a junior one of course, couldn't allow her to have too much power, that was as high as she would ever get, as any of us would ever get. But she lived well, if having a roof over your head and spare pantyhose is living well. Maybe she lived much worse than me. Probably.

We met at a cafe. I didn't normally go there, but the music drew me in, and she was there, and she spoke to me. I stayed much longer than I had expected, went home friend count plus one, very pleased. She went home and cried tears that made her eyes sore for hours after the water had stopped.

We met the second time by accident, or at least I think it was an accident. She would say that everything happens for a reason, or she would if she said anything any more. I was hurrying to a client, she was daydreaming on her lunch break, I called the client and told them my car had broken down and I would make them a new appointment at 15% off, she got food poisoning and didn't even bothering going back for her coat.

We fell hard for each other, but I didn't realize, how could I, how could I not? She fell in love. I feel into the best friendship I had known in years. Sometimes the two things felt the same, but maybe only to me. I drove her wild, she made me want to live forever. I forgot what love meant and she remembered.

We continued to meet at the cafe for almost two months before the inevitable. Then we only saw each other in private, like decent people, or almost decent. Hidden away, that was the only place for us, barring nowhere at all.

Of course it wouldn't last. As much as I loved her, I never loved her. She knew it, she knew I couldn't, most of the time she could take it but who can really take that, and why would I want her to suffer. But I am who I am and as much as I wish I could change myself I can't. She can't either but that doesn't seem to matter, she's gone now because of it, as they all are, inevitably.

Don't ask me where.
Don't ask me why I'm not with her. Somehow they seem to know.

In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God.
And don't you forget it.