twelve - hope

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the art of hope

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After the night of Kareem's nightmare, something between us shifted. We were closer, almost, but also more mindful. We now knew sides to one another that we never intended too, and it makes things evermore so exciting.

But, despite this, I felt more at ease around Kareem than I had been around another person outside of my tight-knit group of friends in years. It was scary, almost, how Kareem relaxed me while still making me anxious at the same time. We'd started spending more time together, having nights at each other's places just watching movies, eating something new every night and comparing music.

After one particular movie night, where Kareem had insisted that I watched all of the Harry Potter films with him, I'd fallen asleep on his shoulder during the third or fourth, not entranced by the world of wizards and witches and wands carriers alike. He didn't bother to wake me and instead I woke to his head resting on mine, Kaz's soft snores soothing me as one of the films continued to play.

Jem had finally expressed their reluctant acceptance of our dating, given that I'd been a lot happier. Jem had been with me my entire life. They knew everything about me, including how I was with Emery. They'd been there through it all, from me publicly coming out to me being absolutely shattered from my breakup.

This is one thing that's entirely new to me, however. I never spent nights with Emery without some form of kissing or entertainment, as he called it. Even if I weren't explicitly involved in what he'd do, he still wanted me there. When we moved to the stage where I'd get involved, I complied. I wanted to make Emery happy, despite my indifference.

I'd been seeing Kareem for a while at this point, and he hadn't expressed any interest in progressing our relationship past kissing. I was waiting for that question, waiting for an invite to stay over to extend to sex, but so far it hadn't happened. Kareem seemed perfectly content with quick, dizzying kisses and movie nights cuddled up together.

I couldn't help but be petrified that everything was going to go up in flames. Emery seemed perfectly content until I told him officially that I didn't want to have sex, that I was asexual. Then there were callous sneers and harsh remarks being made towards me in the school hallway. Maybe I was naive to think we would be forever but I loved him. I adored every ounce of his being with every cell in my body and the fact that he didn't want to be with me anymore because of something that I couldn't control, because of something as arbitrary as sex, was soul breaking.

As much as I want to believe Kareem wouldn't react like that, I thought the same about Emery. I trusted him with the deepest parts of myself and he threw me to the wolves.

Despite the fact my relationship with Emery ended over five years ago, I could still hear his voice in my head taunting me. A part of me knew they never really left but being with Kareem, exposing myself to that potential heartbreak again, was igniting something harmful within me. I was scared of allowing our relationship to grow without knowing his intentions. We hadn't officially put a label on it yet, and I don't think I could solidify the bond like that before I was entirely honest.

Kareem had an entire life that I didn't know about. He grew up in foster care, he enlisted in the army and spent years of his life dedicated to his position. He'd had an entire existence that I couldn't relate to, that I didn't know a thing about.

Despite my fears, despite my anxieties, I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted to know his biggest fears, his happiest memories, those regrets that keep him up at night. I wanted to know everything that made him him, that made him different from everyone else. The good and the bad.

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