19th May 1991
Okay so call me crazy, but I just needed to write this down before I go actual crazy. Is it mad that I’m getting to the point I'd rather go searching for this book to write in, instead what I really want to say to people than not say it at all? At least I'm getting to say it somewhere or to something. I'm sitting on the toilet seat lid, writing my diary while Ross is next door in my bedroom sleeping. Okay, so why did I sneak off into the night or across the landing area to write in my diary. If you were my shoes, you'd probably be in my bed looking down on Ross in his sleeping bag.
I offered up my bed for him and that I'd take the sleeping bag but Nooo… Ross is such a gentleman he let me have the bed not that I would have minded of course. Or we could have shared it, but that would have been asking for too much considering where on baby step terms but the main thing is he is sleeping over with me. I can't stress how adorable Ross looks sleeping. He's like an angel lost in time or something. Ross rests on his right side, and every so often tosses and turns from his side to his back and then back to his side. The sounds he is making is too cute to pass up. If it were Carl sleeping next to me making such noises, I would have pillowed him in the face by now, but the cute puppy like sounds as he jumps in his sleep is cute. I'm not sure if he's having night terrors but the sounds that were escaping every time he jumped into his sleep made him even more attractive.
His face looked so peaceful; it is evident that he’s dreaming about something. I didn't want to wake him because, why would I wake a cutie being all adorable. He has to stay asleep- because when I go back out, I have to watch him sleep for a couple more minutes. Yes, that didn't sound entirely creepy, or anything or anything a lunatic would say. Is that weird, I like watching him sleeping. As scary as it seems it is not. It's just he’s too cute not to look at, that’s it. I don’t think I can think of anything else to do other than look. I think that’s how I’m going to manage to fall asleep. I’ll shift my pillows in my bed so I can look at him as I fall asleep, that’ll work ah-ha.
Okay so let me start at the beginning of the day before I get caught by my mam, or before I forget what happened. Because at this point I’m tired and the events of the day are starting to become muddled.
Starting with this morning, I woke up and did my usual morning routine before going next door to knock for Ross. I cleaned up my room a small bit that in the hopes when I did ask him that he would say yes- and he did. It was comforting to know that I didn’t need to rush back and abandoned him for a little bit to clean my room or say “sorry for the mess” when he came over.
After breakfast, I decided I'd go over to his house and knock. I didn't have any plans as such to ask him if he wanted to stay over but even if I could spend some of the morning hours with him, that would have been cool too. When I knocked his grandmother, let me in, and I was shocked to hear that Ross was still asleep. The last couple of mornings he'd been cutting out sleeping in, to meet up with the gang and me. She told me to go on-on up and wake him. Climbing the stairs, I contemplated what I would ask him for a sleepover. It would be like awesome if he would stay over with me. His presence would be an honour to share if it somehow makes sense. Anyway, when I got to the top of the stairs and knocked on his door, he let out a groan of sorts and asked, “Who is it,” to which I told him, “it's me.”
He shouted from inside the room, “wait for a minute,” and a couple of seconds of rummaging within the room occurred. When he finally told me to “come in,” I did so. I found it funny that he knew it was me and something had happened while I was waiting. I didn’t exactly know what but I knew something had. In fact, his grandmother told me he was asleep. Though he was not, he was apparently awake. There is no way in hell I would move that quick if I weren’t already awake or late for school. In doing so when I made my way into the dimly lit room he sat up on the bed. Somewhat awkwardly with his blankets covering him. The way he sat seemed to emulate one of those times when someone gets out of bed, and they need to cover themselves up suddenly. He didn't seem to be naked; his pyjama bottoms were visible since the blankets only came down over his knees. Though what I found even more exotic was the pair of boxer shorts beside the bed. In a fluster, he must have tried to dress somewhat and forgot to pick up his undies. I found my mind wandering earlier to the possibility of him having a morning wank, and I just interrupted it. It seemed hot at the time, but something about disturbing him appeared almost wrong in a sense. I felt terrible yes- that it's, for interrupting his jerk off session. I know how devastating it is to be interrupted in the middle of the deed. I wonder what he was doing it too but let’s not go their otherwise- I’ll have put the diary away for the night and begin playing with myself.
Anyway, once that hurdle was crossed, and things got on track he got out of bed and ran into the toilet to quickly get dressed, brush his teeth and whatever else it is that he does in the bathroom. While he was gone, I glanced down at the underwear, and it appeared that it was the same type of boxers that I had back at home. I am pretty confident that I have a pair of his underwear now. I was tempted to take the other pair, but he'd surely know if I took it. Plus, he seems to be very free about how he lets his things wander freely about themselves. If I were him, I'd be embarrassed about leaving my underwear out on display for people to see. Well, for him to see, it's not that I wouldn't like him to see. I know all too well that my underpants are secret and should not be displayed or left hanging around the way he does.
Anyway, with that Ross came back out of the bathroom. He stood there for a few minutes, under the door frame. He intently stared at me; it was awkward for a moment. It was like he was contemplating about saying something, though he didn't. Instead, he said, “come on let’s go,” and the both of us bound downstairs to get breakfast like a pack of hungry animals. His grandmother had made pancakes for the two of us, and might I tell you how gorgeous they were, I have never had such a delicious pancake in all my life. But now I can say I have, and Ross’s granny made it.
We started munching away when we got the chocolate his grandmother made for the pancakes. She is so lovely, I'll never know why I never got to know her before. It almost feels a little weird and eccentric even to consider not getting to know her before Ross even arrived. I guess I'm going to be a bit sad when Ross leaves so, for now, it's all happy.
It’s quite comforting to know that Ross likes chocolate on his pancakes, what is better than a boy who likes chocolate on his pancakes. Well, that’s what happened when Ross’s grandmother asked what we wanted as a topping on our pancakes. I became a little stuck for words. I didn’t exactly know what I wanted to say or what topping to pick. So, I decided I’d just go with the traditional topping. Well mainly because Ross choose chocolate, you can’t go wrong we’re a cute boy picks chocolate as his topping. As I made up my mind on what to pick, I got a wrenching, churning feeling in my stomach. I thought I was going to puke. Yeah, that's right. That's the sensation alright. I felt like I was going to barf or at least upchuck everything that I had in my stomach onto the table and I'm so glad that that did not happen.
When we left Ross's grannies, we just went down by ourselves to the Creek by the castle, and again he took my bike. I don't know what possessed us to go there, but I guess it just felt natural that the both of us should go there. I think Ross is happy, it's like our little happy, safe place away from everybody else, and it's a secret that only the two of us know about and that makes it feel all the more special.
It was just the two of us down by the creek, and while we were sitting by the bank, I watched Ross skipping stones off into the lake. There was a silence for the most part, but after a while, he broke this question and asked me, "how do you like know if you're different?" I wasn't exactly sure what he was talking about, but the only thing I can imagine that he was talking about was maybe his personality. Personally, that's what I hope he was talking about earlier. I tried breaching the question, I asked, "what do you mean?” Ross just nervously edged about on the edge of the bank got a little flustered. My heart sank a little bit. No way was he going to agree with the question even after it came into existence. He thought for a moment and then rephrased his question slightly, “I think I feel a little weird.”
And I’m like “how?” He gives me a quizzical expression before I can say anything else and he quickly tries to change the subject but I'm persistent, and I'm like, "no! tell me what's really on your mind."
Though Ross somehow became nervous and retreated back into the thick outer shell he has encasing his cute personality. He just said, “I don't know... never mind I’m just speaking rubbish.”
To be honest, I was slightly disappointed; I didn't exactly know how to continue the conversation. I did not want to make the conversation any less or more awkward then it was. Because if I did, then Ross would definitely think that I'm weird for even insinuating that he might be trying to come out to me. ‘Oh god… Only now do I see how bad it looks. Did I just try to ask if was he gay or something? Knowing my luck, he'll probably abandon me now tomorrow or something. Okay, maybe I'm just overreacting if I were feeling uncomfortable I would abandon me as well directly after even saying such a thing. I really must have some hope for myself; I seem to be beating myself up, even more, these days. I swear if my mam ever reads this diary she’d probably think that I hate myself or something when I seemingly don't. I need to reflect rationally and logically before even attempt to open my mouth in the future.
Around lunch, we decided to walk into town. We got on the bikes and rode down the back-country roads Felt like it were my first time on that weird little journey. I can't correctly explain why but for all the years that me and Carl cycled our bikes to and from the town. I never felt the need to say it was ‘wow.’ But something about travelling with Ross today was well… Wow. I can't stress this enough he is a really cool person. I don't think I've felt like this for anyone other than Ross. All the feelings swirling around in my head is a little weird and confusing, and I'll never understand how it relates to me personally because I'm always going to be blindsided when Ross is around.
When we got into town, we cycled around for a bit. Then we both popped our bikes outside the candy shop and went in to see what was on offer. While I was negotiating, Ross moseyed around the entire shop looking what was on offer like he was transfixed. Being from London, I would have thought Ross had been accustomed to such things. Though the way he looked at it today with a childlike wonder suggested otherwise, still it was cute.
Ross seemed to open up more today about personal subjects. I don't think I would ever have the courage to say any of the topic’s or openness he showed today about how he's feeling. I think Ross is sad deep down. I think the whole situation with his parents has been particularly tough on him and he hasn't really opened up to anyone about it -well other than me. I don't think actually I'm confident that he hasn't told his granny or his granddad about how he's feeling. I’m sure there is a lot of hatred or something deep down there that I can't quite understand, but yeah, I'm getting a little worried about him.
I hope I have the time to dig a little deeper before he has to go home because I don't want him to go back home feeling sad. That is the last thing I want to see happen; Is for Ross to return home sad. He deserves some happiness, but happiness is not something that he can afford right now.
I think he feels like he doesn't know where he belongs and it's starting to show as each day goes on. I hate to admit, but I don't think I can be of help for much longer because well, I don't know how much longer he is going to be here. To be honest, it's kind of sad to think about it. I hate that he'll go home and leave me here. I have no idea when his parents are going to take him back to London. They are going to part ways, and he's going to be forever feeling lost. While living here, I hope he doesn't feel as lost; he has me. I'm glad that he is confiding in me even if it's utterly confusing the fuck out of me.
Anyway, I might just go back to bed and watch him sleep. I promise it doesn’t sound as bad as it does. I think he's awake or something. He just called me by name. I need to go….