Mondays

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Mondays usually suck.

Mostly because they're Mondays and who needs a reason to hate them.

Sometimes I wonder, if Mondays were canceled, would everyone just hate Tuesdays? or would we just be happy to have Mondays gone?

These were usually the thoughts that took over my head but sometimes my thoughts were just filled with pretty boys. And thoughts were all I had because I could never openly love a boy.

I grew up in a christian home. Weekends were filled with Church and sermons on how the world was coming to an end and we were full of sin.

Homosexuality of course was of the devil and there was no way a man should ever sleep with a man.

And then there was 12 year old me, ashamed of feeling lust when I watched men with tight pants and those weird underwear wrestle on T.V.

No one could have guessed it, because watching wrestling is a "boy" thing. And that's how I lived my life, trying to become the man I thought my parents wanted me to be.

I dated a few girls and I didn't completely hate it.

The sex was always great but what came right after was a feeling of guilt. Like somehow it was wrong. And when our relationships would end I would erase them from my memory. There was no way I would hold on to memories of a person who left. Because in my mind, anyone who wanted to leave didn't deserved to be remembered.

This Monday, was no different than any other Monday. This Monday might have been the worst one of all, mostly because I ran into you. Maybe if I had skipped that Monday, we would have never crossed paths. But here I am, writing about the day I met my soulmate.

Six months ago I might have excused myself to vomit after using the "s" word. Soulmates is overrated, but in our case, it felt real.

-Monday February 24,2020-

The alarm rings for the 20th time, and my eye lids are glued shut. I can hear the alarm in the distance but I can't bring myself to wake up because yet again, I fell asleep at 2am watching YouTube videos.

"Who the fuck does this? " I ask myself.

It's like logical me takes the nights off because during the day I clearly make plans to fix my sleep schedule. But here we are again, dreading the idea of starting a new day.

I kick off the blankets and slip out of bed. It's like ripping off a bandaid, it has to be done quickly to minimize the pain. I rush to the bathroom, knowing damn well if I don't make it in time I won't get any of the hot water. I rush past a few doors but as I arrive, the door across from the bathroom swings open and out rushes a blurry figure. I make it to the bathroom as soon as he's getting ready to close it and he just smiles as he slams the door closed in my face.

My initial thought : "I hate you."

First of all, you clearly knew I was headed there. Secondly who the fuck looks that adorable after they've just woke up? and Lastly, who the hell are you?

The boy that rushed into the bathroom was not a familiar face. His hair was messy and dark, his eyes looked blank but his eyebrows made him seem mischievous and his smile was soft; Sort of like an evil baby.

Satans spawn might have spent 20 minutes in that bathroom and I sat across the hall the entire time. Partly because I wanted to give him dirty looks when he came out of the shower. But the other really gay half of me wondered how he looked wet and in a towel.

As soon as the door flings open, I fly up, almost like I would actually confront him. But I stay silent and just smile. The really sad thing about me is that I absolutely hate confrontation and today was no exception. The stranger smiles but his smile is more of a smirk and the strong scent of his cologne lingers long after he slams his down behind him. And just as expected, he does not disappoint. He didn't walk out in a towel, but the boy came out shirtless. He wasn't built but he wasn't out of shape, his arms had a form but his body seemed gentle and soft.

I make my way into the bathroom and notice his phone laying there on the sink. I hear the bedroom door crack open but this time it's me that smiles and closes the bathroom door. "He can get his phone later,"I laugh to myself.

The sound of the shower drowns the noise of the boy knocking. Maybe I didn't completely think this through.

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