In school, you're always asked the typical question
"What do you want to be when you grow up?"
What if you don't know the answer?
How are you supposed to find out what you want to do?

Sure, you could go to college and find out then
But then there's the fear of student loans and costs
Then they ask, "why don't you get a job?"
Easy for you to say, I don't know where to start.

No social skills, no experience doing anything.
And you fear being exploited or mistreated cause of your quirks.
So then you just do nothing, and let your ability to write fade
The one apparent thing you were good at. As if.

So then you wallow away at home
And it's convenient cause of what's going on right now
But what happens when all this is over? Then what?
Do you just continue to engage in sloth?

You'll rot away doing nothing
Wasting your time on stupid games and special interests
Get off your ******* *** and do something with yourself
Go out and be a productive member of society

Get a job and make the rich richer
And watch as any optimism you thought you had crumbles
Whatever it takes to get those thoughts in your head to stop
The constant thoughts that you amount to nothing

Despite their protests
And transphobic comments
We went on the date we had planned
Not caring about their demands

Sure, I was nervous as hell
And I could tell she was as well
And maybe we didn't talk much
But none of that mattered when I met her touch

Our hands interlocked in a silent agreement
That no matter what they said, we would ignore their treatment
There were so many things I wanted to do or say
But all that will come on another day.

When I first sat at that table
A sort of aura filled the air, it was unstable
Even though I knew they wouldn't change their ways
My eyes still met your beautiful gaze.

There have been countless times
Where we've voice chatted
And I laughed and you called it cute.
And I found myself enjoying it.

I liked it whenever I sounded like that
Whenever I sounded different, feminine.
And I began to dislike hearing my normal laugh.
It felt odd to me.

A thought popped into my head.
A desire to experiment.
And once I did it, I felt even weirder about myself.
Then the questions started.

You pointed things out, and called me an egg.
Not that I minded.
Still, the questions remained, and I felt strange.
There was a sadness that I couldn't place.

Excuses were made.
Like how I didn't feel a 'certain way'
Whenever I tried on those clothes again.
It had to be something ******. It just had to.

But I started to not react in that way anymore.
And I kind of liked wearing them.
So then the questions returned.
And I didn't know what to think.

In the end, while I still have these questions.
I think it's okay to have them.
And even though I'm uncertain about myself
I'll continue on until I find who I am.

On that one night, you hummed to yourself.
Some song from some game, I suppose.
To you, it may have been just noise
But it struck my heart.

Your voice was relaxing
And I just laid down, listening in awe
Captivated by that sound
It was beautiful.

As I laid there, I was overcome
With a strong sense of calm
And in that moment, I felt I could lie there forever
Just listening to your hum.

When you're awake
Likely chatting away on Discord.
I'm likely tossing and turning
Trying to get to sleep.

And when I'm up
At an ungodly hour in the morning.
You're probably asleep.
Hugging your pillow, I hope.

Halfway across the country now.
The distance between us feels further
Yet when we talk it feels like
You never left.

One day, I'll join you
And then, finally
Our schedules won't be awkward.
Instead, they'll be synchronized.

When we're apart
I just want to talk to you.
You plague my thoughts
But I don't mind.

I wanna know
How you're doing
Even if it's a simple answer
It makes me happy.

Our talks might be short
And I might not know
What to say to you
But I don't care.

I feel like we make
The most of the time
We have together.
But why do I want more?

I wanna feel your hand grasp mine
Our fingers interlocking
Our lips crashing together
In a frenzy of desire.

You're something I can't
Get enough of.
An addiction. A craving.
Some sort of drug.

A cross-country trip that should
Take about five days at most.
Maybe more.
And during that time, we won't get to talk.

I'll miss you
and my heart aches just thinking about it.
But I know that this is something
you have to do.

I'll be waiting for you.
I hope you'll be safe.
And I know that you'll
miss me too.