In suburbia. (Tronnor Fanfic)

Thirty-two

Both Connor and I cry a lot.
We are sad a lot, almost like we're depressed.
We both listen to sad music.

It's not that we really are depressed.
It's just that Connor has gone through a lot. I understand it.
His parents threw him out of his house when he needed them the most. That must've been horrible.

And I? What is my excuse to be crying all the time?
Well, maybe it seems like coming out was very easy for me but: it wasn't.
My parents were very accepting, my siblings were really lovely, my grandparents were all okay with it, that's not the problem.
The problem is this small town where we live in. Where everybody knows each other. Where everybody exchanges gossips. And that one is the problem.
Because we live in a small town, people somtimes are afraid of things like 'the big city' or 'the new generation,' and they are afraid of different. Different products in the supermarket. Different bread at the bakery. Different sexuality.

And it's not like I told everyone, certainly not. But because of all those woman gossiping people almost 'fear' me. Their children can't hang out with me, they never greet me in the supermarket of sports club anymore.

Since Connor didn't tell anyone besides his parents, who will never tell anyone because they are scared of him theirseleves, so he hasn't got all this shit. And I'm happy because of that, because he already has to go through a lot.

It's sad. I always thought I could really be myself in this neighbourhood.
People used to be so kind.
But now they barely talk to me.

And it's not like that's the worst thing in the world, at least my parents are lovely and accepting. But sometimes it just fucks me up. And all I want to do is crying.
And since I know Connor I'm, like, realising this situation more and more. It's not okay.
But we can't change them. They need to change theirselves, become more accepting.
But they won't, so until they do, Con and I will just keep ourselves quiet.
When we have more money, we might move to the 'big city,' where people are more accepting.

But we don't have that money yet. Furthermore, it's hard letting go of suburbia. We live in a really small, but safe neighbourhood. Almost everybody knows each other. And although we maybe want to move, this is the place we both grew up in. It's not just a village. It's our home.
There is so much history in these streets.

I could write a song about it.

Because the sun sets longer here, boys fix their cars, there is so much history in these streets, so much nostalgia, mama's good eats. Blown out stereos. Chasing time. If I leave this blue neighbourhood, I feel like I've lost what's mine. It seems like never letting go of suburbia.
There is so much history in my head.

Literally, I'm going to write a song about this neighbourhood right now.

The sun sets longer, where I am from.
Where dreams go to die, while having fun.
The boys fix their cars and, girls eat it up.
Loving's so good when, love is young.

There's so much history in these streets, and mama's good eats, Oh Wonder on repeat.
So much history in my head, the people I've left, the ones that I've kept.

Have you heard me on the radio?
Did you turn it up?
On you blown-out stereo, in suburbia.
Could be playing hide and seek from home, can't replace my blood
Yeah, it seems to never letting go, of suburbia.

Swallow nostalgia, chase it with lime.
Better than dwelling, and chasing time.
Missing occasions, I can't rewind.
Can't help but feel I've lost what's mine.

There's so much history in these streets, and mama's good eats, Oh Wonder on repeat.
So much history in my head, the people I've left, the ones that I've kept.

Have you heard me on the radio?
Did you turn it up?
On you blown-out stereo, in suburbia.
Could be playing hide and seek from home, can't replace my blood
Yeah, it seems to never letting go, of suburbia.

They all say that nothing ever changes.
Through the new lines, that are on their faces.
They all say that nothing ever changes.
Through the new lines, that are on their faces.

There's so much history in these streets, and mama's good eats, Oh Wonder on repeat.
So much history in my head, the people I've left, the ones that I've kept.

Have you heard me on the radio?
Did you turn it up?
On you blown-out stereo, in suburbia.
Could be playing hide and seek from home, can't replace my blood
Yeah, it seems to never letting go, of suburbia.