More Than Life {Rosetta}

belief in the breeze
the smoky morning haze
the sun on her face
and the touch of lovers' hands
the pain that comes today

Ever since I got back from Four, after the Olympics, I haven't seen my friends much. I saw Morgain, because I had to. I say my parents, obviously. And I trained, a little bit. But, I guess my baby is pushing training out of my life, and I have to choose one over the other. If there's one thing I know, it's that I can't give up family. Even if the baby isn't here yet, physically, they're still my number one priority in my life. But, the thing is, I can't stand going to check on him, because Morgaine, not that I don't like her. I love her. I just... it's the looks she gives me, like she's not mad, but she's guilty. Like it's her fault. And I know the truth, it's mine. And she knows it, too. But I think she feels bad. Because, well it's not like I planned on getting her pregnant; I'm gay. But she didn't know that, and I gave her false hope, and I gave my family false hope that I might have someone I'll love for life, and I might have gave her parents false hope. But the looks they all give me makes up for it. I decided it's time to get out, and so I called up Val for some one-on-one time.

"Hey... Val? How's it going?"

I left my house, my parents knowing where I'm heading out. And even though they don't really have a say of what I can do, I still notify them everywhere I go out. I guess old habits die hard. Ever since I got Morgain pregnant - and came out of the closet - I can't help but feel all eyes are glued on me. I know I'm being self-conscious because I know I do the same thing when I see a hot guy walk by. With my hands fingering the coins in my pocket, I wonder what I'm going to buy. Even though I doubt I'll see something pleasing enough to spend money on it.

"That's good... Are you busy tomorrow?"

The shops slowly shift from the older stores of Two to the more modern ones; frozen yogurt, a pancake house, a pet shop, and some clothing stores. I told her I'd meet her outside the coffee place, because I figured - if we wanted (and if the weather permitted) - we could grab some java or hot chocolate. I pass the park with the willow trees, the first place I really met Morgaine, and cringe. They must have meant something if they're still hot-glue-gunned (they definitely burn) to the front side of my brain, but it doesn't mean I want to remember them. Some things have to stay in the past.

"Oh, okay. I was wondering if you wanted to meet up tomorrow?"

As I walk up to the coffee house, I contemplate over whether I should sit outside or inside, fearing Valerie might not look inside, or it could be too busy in there. But, the chilly winds get the best of me - my lips already beginning to burn from the excessive licking - and I have to push open the door and step into the heated room. It's a cozy place (something my mom says to substitute small in a polite way), and it's not too crowded. Again, I can't decide whether to stay seated until Valerie comes, or hop in line ahead of time. I figure I can wait for her to get here first, so I can pay for her, be an actual gentlemen.

"Where? That's a good question... I haven't thought about that yet. You know that newish coffee hut, right next to the diner? How about there?"

And that's the thing, ever since I've came out of the closet, I feel like people are expecting me to drop training (which I have done) and pick up fashion designing. It's agitating. Pretty much everything about being gay sucks so far. The stereotypes. That's easily the worst part. Like fore mentioned, I can't help but assume people are waiting for me to buy a lap-dog to keep in my purse. I never realized how much that sucks. Now I do. The taunting. Sure, no one has really done that to my face, yet, but the looks people give me tell me everything, like I'm not human. Or like I don't belong in District Two. The one positive thing that's happened since I came out is how much stress is off my shoulders. It's like the bricks on my ankles were clipped off.

"I was thinking noonish. All right, see you then. Bye."

{ooc: for post-a-thon; 766 words.}

and we are homeward bound
and i
i want this more than life
i want this more than life
i want this more than life