I'm sad. Depressed, actually.

I don't feel like "bleeding my heart out to the world" now. Maybe I'll tell you later. I'm worried. He's straight, very accepting and hugs nearly everyone in sight, but especially the girls. He loves hugging girls and being hugged by girls. Boys, he hugs but I know it's out of obligations to be open-minded. I notice that it's usually the other guys that want a hug, though they claim they're straight. He never hugs them except to make fun, especially if the other guy's resisting.

Damn him, despite your fault and indecency. Unable to pick up my heart-strung hints.
You stand there, smiling, with your almost perfect set of teeth, and I in braces.
Your hat, your sweatshirt, your orange T-shirt, you red jacket. Most colorful garments.
Damn you, Furby.
For little had I of you, more want I.
Oppressively bound to such a lie!
Soft hunger grown more by that which it does feed.

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