#i have that same tingly brain feeling when using a laptop to write an essay. honestly

[urgrossdaughter]

It's ok grind away on your teddy.

Am i the onlt who doesnt enjoy that? Not because it doesnt feel good physically but like. I can't focus or anything it feels awful in my brain that im just kot doing anything besides basically sitting?? Like i start doing it snd after 5 seconds my arms feel tingly because of how utterly boring it is and i physically cannot continue to do it because ihdhvduhfj

[jfpisadearqueerdeer]

Excerpt from BLUE | Simon Spier x Bram Greenfeld

I want you

That’s where I found Blue’s post. It just kind of spoke to me. Ans I don’t even think it was just the gay thing. I don’t know. It was seriously like five lines, but it was grammatically correct and strangely poetic, and just completely different from anything I’d ever read before.

***

I mean, I just had to know him.

***

I guess I didn’t really think of myself as interesting until I was interesting to Blue. So, I can’t tell him. I’d rather not lose him.

I'll color me blue

Non-hetero sex, though? I imagine it may be a little bit better than Reese’s. Is it weird that I can’t talk about this without blushing?

Anything it takes to make you stay

He likes to imagine me fantasizing about sex.

That’s something I probably shouldn’t have read right before bed. I lie here in the pitch-darkness, reading that particular line on my phone again and again. I’m jittery and awake and completely in knots, all from an email. And I’m hard. So, that’s kind of strange.

It’s really confusing. A good kind of confusing. Blue is normally so careful about what he writes.

He like to imagine me fantasizing about sex!

***

I picture it. He kisses me, and it’s nothing like Rachel or Anna or Carys. I can’t even. It’s not even in the same stratosphere. There’s this electric tingly feeling radiating through my whole body and my brain has gone fuzzy and I actually think I can hear my heartbeat.

***

His tongue is in my mouth. His hands slide up under my shirt, and he trails his fingers across my chest. I’m so close. It’s almost unbearable. God. Blue.

My whole body turns to jelly.

Only seeing myself

So, didn’t there used to be a reality show where people had to date each other in pitch-darkness? We should do that. We should find a room somewhere that is totally dark and then we could hang out and it would be totally anonymous. That way we wouldn’t ruin anything. What do you think?

-Jacques

***

You bring up a good point about our voices. I guess we would have to use some kind of robotic megaphones to warp them so they sound like Darth Vader. Or we could just do other things instead of talking. I mean. I’m just saying.

-Your Zombie Jacques

When I'm looking up at you

Anyway, all things considered, I agree that this as a far more satisfying use of my time than writing English essays. You are very distracting.

-Jacques

I want you

What I want is to sit here and think about Blue. I think I’m starting to get a little obsessed with him.

I'll color me blue

So, who are all these cute guys who make you so nervous? They can’t be that cute. You better not love THEIR sentence fragments.

Anything it takes to make you stay

I’m thinking about Blue – always Blue – because really, my mind only wanders in one direction. I got another email from him this morning. Lately, we’ve been emailing almost every day, and it’s a little crazy how much he’s been on my mind. I almost fucked up a chem lab today because I was emailing Blue in my head and I kind of forgot I was pouring nitric acid.

Only seeing myself

I wonder how it’s going for Blue. I wonder if Blue is feeling the same flutter in his stomach that I feel right now. Actually, he’s probably feeling more than a flutter. He’s probably so nauseated he can hardly choke his words out.

My Blue.

When I'm looking up at you

I have to meet him.

I don’t think I can keep this up. I don’t care if it ruins everything. I’m this close to making out with my laptop screen.

Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue Blue.

Seriously, I feel like I’m about to combust.

I spend the entire school day with my stomach in knots, and it’s completely pointless, because it’s not attached to anything real. Because, really, it’s just words on a screen. I don’t even know his freaking name.

I think I’m a little bit in love with him.