We didn’t sleep together, not that night. I think it could have broke him if I touched him too much. It would have been my first time. I spent the night on his futon. He insisted it after we kissed for hours, lazily after awhile, just kissing to kiss instead of to feel. He told me it made his nerves relax. I didn’t ask why he was anxious. I didn’t want to know.

There was a pigeon sitting on the window sill when I awoke, I realized tomorrow I had to go back home to Ohio. I thought of this as the bird flew away, I thought of more than that, too. I couldn’t help thinking that I was a lot like that bird. I needed to get away all of my life. When I applied for college, none of the schools were in my home state; I knew I wasn’t destined to be there. I had to move on. I don’t know why I choose Chicago, but I did. And I looked out the window, and I watched the bird, and I couldn’t help wondering if I would fly away again someday. Maybe I would stay put. I turned my head full of ideas of the future and looked towards Blaine’s sleeping figure through the doorframe. He snored quietly, his body rising with every breath and falling with each exhale. It was weird, we hadn’t talked much, but I felt connected to him already. It could have been because he shared so many parts of himself when we talked. I wanted to wake him up just to talk, but I couldn’t bring myself to. He looked peaceful. I hoped he felt it. I really did.

“Kurt! Wait up!” He did wake up eventually, and when he did he forced me to venture out in to the city with him. I had confessed I wasn’t that familiar with Chicago, he gaped at me for it, and instantly assumed that I had to be shown the best sections of the city. I never expected to get such a rush from the sights, even things I had overlooked as I had passed by them every single day. Blaine showed me them with enthusiasm seeping from his pours, his confidence shining through. The tiniest details in my surroundings affected me unlike ever before, making me realize that my current habitat might not have been as awful as I made it out to be from a few quick glances. He made me dig to find the treasure the city held, and I dug and dug, I was eager for his approval. I received it, even if I didn’t notice right away. We were walking on navy pier, it was extremely chilly, but people were everywhere due to Winter  Wonderfest. Blaine led me by the hand, unaware of how much it meant to me, and walked me away from the people heading towards the festival. We walked towards the edge of the pier, looking out onto the hazy water. It was bone chilling and glorious in the strangest way. I watched as the snow began to fall, blowing over the water, as if the snow was made up of a million unwanted tiny pieces of paper in someone’s hand being blown away to litter over cities and people and the small, unimportant world. I thought of how many trees would be wasted if the snow really were paper, and I thought about how many trees I had wasted with self harming paper cuts on the tips of my fingers. I remembered the sting that always caught me off guard. But my hand was being held, right there on the pier, the hand that I had hurt on purpose. The hand attached to the arm I hurt, was being touched, was being gripped. I looked at Blaine, hoping that how much this mattered was reflected in my eyes. He looked back at me and he smiled the most genuine smile I had ever seen anyone smile, even a child, and he blushed. He looked down and laughed at himself. 

 “When I looked at you, I forgot how old I am.” He said and laughed again, looking out onto the water, “I look at you and feel young, but when I talk to you I feel so old. I think you’re an old soul.”

“People have said that to me before.” I told him, “I have always taken to adults more than people my own age. They just…don’t get me.”

“Well, now that you’re in college you should be able to be friends with people of many different age ranges.” He paused and took a look at me, I shrugged. “No luck with that, huh?”

“I haven’t talked to many people. Things have been…difficult for me lately.” I winced at my own words, realizing that I had it so much easier than the man standing beside me. 

  “What do you mean?” He said first and then added: “Hey, we’ve talked about me far too much. Talk.”

“I really hate talking about myself.”

 “Well, I guess we’ll have to loosen you up a bit, huh?” Blaine let go of my hand and reached over to squeeze my shoulder, walking away and motioning for me to follow. I did that, running a bit to catch up with him. We walked for awhile, eventually stopping and grabbing a taxi. We split the fare and got out at the corner of a street; I instantly caught sight of the bar before us, and rolled my eyes. Blaine’s plans ran through my mind. He was going to try to loosen me up by getting me incredibly drunk, which was something I had only done once. I wasn’t sure of my tendencies when under the influence, and I began to wonder if tonight I was going to let him take advantage of me. That was always the plan, anyways, wasn’t it? We started for the bar, Blaine’s smirk appearing slowly across his face. I reflected the expression back at him, unsure of what I really felt in the moment. He opened the door for me and I was hit with a flood of color. There were murals everywhere. Bright ones, dark ones, scary twisted figures with open mouths and glimmering red tongues, yellow eyed gargoyles, zombies with their heads in their hands, their hearts smashed on the floor. I took it all in, turning my head only to be hit with another display of artwork. The further I went into the bar, the softer the artwork became. It didn’t take me long to realize that even though the art was soft and wispy, the darkness was more prominent than that of the exaggerated cartoons in the front of the building. I admired the deceiving paintings with shiny eyes, my fingertips getting tingly with the urge to reach out and follow the creases in the paint. Blaine interrupted, eventually, tapping my shoulder lightly and waving me towards a table in the corner. We sat quietly at first, Blaine’s fingers tapping on the edge of the table. He ordered us a basket of French fries, and then slid the drink menu in my direction. 

 “What do you like?” I knew then what he was referring to, of course, but the sensuality in his voice was clear. It hit me, my stomach fluttered nervously, and I blushed from my neck upwards. I could see Blaine smirking in the corner of my eye. His confidence was annoyingly infectious, bringing a cheesy smile to my face.

 “I don’t drink often.” He frowned at me.

 “Do you ever have any fun, Kurt?” He leaned inwards, “What do you do to loosen up?”

  “I…” My mouth went dry, “I used to sing.”

“Really?” Blaine went back to sitting regularly in his chair. “I’ll be right back.” I watched him get up and go to the bar, ordering our drinks. He came back quickly, placing a glass infront of me. “Don’t question it, just try it.”

 “Okay.” I licked my lips, “I trust you.” I watched him swallow my words with his drink. I could see him faintly remembering that I was the one who began this entire charade.  I began the seducing. I was never the vulnerable one. He repositioned himself in his chair, the realization hitting him right before me. I took a sip of my drink; it was sour and heavy on my tongue. I could tell from the first sip that it would be one of those things that are terrible but you can’t stop going back to them. I pushed it towards the side of the table by the wall and looked at Blaine. He was staring down at his drink, as if he was questioning it, or maybe he was questioning everything else. “Hey, you okay?”

 “Oh…yeah, yeah. This song just reminds me of something.” Before he mentioned it, I had barely noticed the faint background music. It was a gentle love song, one that could be the kind that brought goose bumps to your skin and built up longing in your heart. I focused on it, my eyes closing as I did, and listened to the words. It finished, my eyes opened. I didn’t ask what it meant. I didn’t want to know. “You said you like to sing. What else do you like?”

 “I said I used to sing. I used to do a lot of things, before.” I took another sip of my drink, now tasting the smoothness of the apple flavor lurking beneath the sour first sip. 

 “Before what?” He questioned me, his voice light, easing me into talking about it. I hadn’t really told anyone how I felt after being rejected. My dad could tell, just by the looks of me, and didn’t interrogate me. He told everyone to let me be, and they did. I guess he thought that I would get over it.

“You’re going to think this is stupid.”

“If it’s important to you, Kurt, then it isn’t stupid.”

“Okay,” I sighed, “I got rejected from my dream school. It was a long process to get in, one that led me on to think I was getting in. It was like I didn’t expect not to get in, you know? I didn’t think about what my life would be like if I didn’t. If I would keep performing – it was a musical theatre program, did I mention that? Anyway, I was devastated. I barely moved from my bed for days…nothing feels the same anymore. It’s like auditioning for American Idol, right? I feel like the guy that thinks he’s the best singer in the world, with so much confidence, that got told by Simon Cowell that he sucks.”

“First of all, Simon Cowell is no longer a judge on American Idol.” Blaine laughed, trying to break the tension between us. “I think the way you reacted was normal, it makes perfect sense why you feel the way you do. But I think you’re more than average, Kurt. I think…someone like you should be able to rise above what is normal for you to feel. I know right now that you still have parts of you lost in the mix of what happened, I can tell. I could tell the first day of school. I just think that you, the Kurt I can see beneath the layers, would fight the feeling of being rejected with full force.” I huffed, took a long sip of my drink, and looked away from him. He reached out and grabbed my hands, he held them tight. “You’re a hurricane. I don’t think that you have realized that yet, but you’re the kind of guy who is a mixture of everything. You’re a thunderstorm, you’re damaging winds, and you’re destruction. And that all sounds so terrible, I know it. Think about it, you’ve got quick wit, killer confidence…and God, Kurt, if you don’t see that you have me wrapped around your finger, see it now.  You’re a hurricane, and I’m afraid to get close to you. But you’re too interesting to look away from.” I digested his words. They were hard to decipher, because I wasn’t aware of how I was affecting him. My heart began to race and I felt a little dizzy, I looked over at my glass and realized somehow it was almost gone. I was drunk.  

 “I’ll be right back…” I mumbled towards him and rose from my seat, hands and legs shaking. I somehow found the bathroom, and then checked first to see if it was empty before I sighed at my reflection in the mirror. I closed my eyes tightly, gripping the sink with white knuckled hands. I had no idea why the words were hitting me so hard. Why everything was hitting me so hard. He said I had him wrapped around my finger, but wasn’t that him? I opened my eyes, meeting my own reflected eyes before noticing Blaine’s figure in the corner of the mirror, leaned against the wall.

“If this is too much for you, we’ll stop. We’ll walk away and we won’t talk about it ever again.”His eyes were dark. Darker than I ever thought they were. I responded to him the only way I knew how to. I walked towards him, I put my hands on his face, and I pulled him in. I kissed him. There were words on my tongue, begging to be said, words I could never say. I gave them to him. His mouth parted and I deepened the kiss, the words between us never being said aloud but still mattering, still making sense. His hands wandered all over the sides of my body, traveling up my back and scraping downwards, blunt nails still making me shiver and twist under his grip. The kiss changed, becoming messier and less careful, hot breath shared amongst our lips as the music seemed to grow louder in the bathroom around us. My hands dropped from his face and I wrapped my arms around his neck instead, pulling him even closer. I knew I was a little drunk, but I was still aware of how I was touching Blaine. I wanted to push him against the wall, but I couldn’t. I was scared it would remind him of the last person I wanted him to think of now, so I did the opposite of what he would do to him. I held him close. Our bodies fit so well together, it made it even better. My tongue circled his once more before we pulled apart, breathless and in awe of each other.  My hand found his face again, stroking his cheek as he leaned into it, sighing happily.

“We could go back to your…office?” I smiled at him, watching him nuzzling into my hand. 

 “Yeah, let’s do that.” He finally replied and put his hand over mine, moving it away from his face and letting it drop to my side, where he linked our hands together. He led me out of the bathroom bashfully, waving a small wave towards the bartender. We exited the building, giggling and swinging our arms. I felt like a child. When you’re a kid, you’re always safe. Heartbreak barely exists and all your friends are people you know nothing about except the fact that they may prefer the train toy to the building blocks, so you always let them play with it, because you kind of like blocks anyway. He leaned into me as we waited to spot a taxi, his head on my shoulder while the snow falling wrapped around us, like a blanket without any warmth. He flagged down a taxi and we got inside, sitting close to each other as the city passed by us in a blur of greys and pops of color. My hand touched the window, trying to grab handfuls of buildings and crowds of people. I laughed into Blaine’s shoulder, the taxi coming to a stop in front of the office building. Blaine paid and I barely noticed, I opened the door and stood on the sidewalk, my head turned upward to look at the building. 

 “Kurt, c’mon.” I peeled my eyes away from the building and found Blaine staring at me from the doorway, laughing at my expression. I walked towards him and we headed into the building together, ignoring the interested looks from the front desk. We continued into the elevator, where we stayed on opposite sides, looking forward and tapping our feet impatiently. When the doors opened, Blaine motioned for me to go first, and I stepped out into the hallway. I looked back at him, noticing he was already steps ahead of me, standing at his door as he unlocked it. I took a deep breath and head over to the office door. I walked in and began to take off my jacket, trying to avoid the need to bite my lip. I put all my winter gear beside the door, unsure what I was supposed to do next. I turned my head, catching a blur of Blaine in the “bedroom.” I watched as he sat down on the bed, peering at me through the doorway. There was no pressure, but there was a choice to be made. I would walk through the doorway and create a memory that I could never erase. This was a moment that I would carry with me always, that would change how I looked at sex and relationships for the rest of my life. There was no pressure, and that’s how I made the choice. I walked over to him, my intentions romantic and wicked, a smirk finding its place on my lips. I put my legs on both sides of his, straddling his lap as he moved to lie down. I kissed him, but not on the lips first. I explored his neck with wet, opened mouthed kisses. I was careful with it, trying not to mark him. I wasn’t looking to be possessive. I was looking to find a way to show him the better side of romance. This wasn’t about dominating him, and as I realized I was on top and leading the way once again, I changed positions. My tipsy state of mind was wearing off, causing me to remember the thoughts I had been thinking of previously. Blaine was used to being pushed down, he was used to being dominated and used. It was clear in his words and his eyes. I wanted to give him something new. I didn’t know his previous relationship experience, but I knew of what he had been through lately. This was going to be different. When I moved, I laid down on the bed beside him, pulling on his arm to signal I wanted him to be on top. He looked at me with confusion across his face, but I kept pulling until he moved. When he settled on top of me, I could see the apprehension in his movements, and I wondered what could stop him.

 “Blaine…” He looked at me, “I want you to do what you don’t get to do usually. I want this to be different.” He exhaled and dropped his eyes from mine; his entire body going limp for a second causing it to touch mine completely without thought, his arousal becoming evident. “You can…you can do whatever you want to me.” 

 “Fuck…” His eyes met mine. He shook his head, teeth grazing over his lip as he looked at me. “You’ve never done this before, have you?” He said it as he leaned closer to me, mouth right beside my ear. I whimpered.

 “No.”

“But you want to? You want me?” His words were sexy, but they came across as broken. I arched my body into him, to prove my desire. He needed this. He needed me. I was going to give him everything.

 “I do want you.” And then I whispered, “Take me. I’m yours.” It was more than enough to reassure him. His fingers drifted underneath my shirt, pushing it upwards until I had to sit up for him to remove it. It was interesting, watching him look at me, as he touched my chest and stomach with wide eyes and large, dark pupils, his lips always somewhat parted. He trailed his mouth over my exposed skin, tongue running over a nipple, as his hands traveled lower to unbutton my pants. I barely moved, my body was aching with want, but I wanted him to do what he needed to more than anything else. He sat up, smiling down at me, as he removed my pants and his own shirt. I looked at his body in amazement, unable to fight back the urge to touch him. I let my palms slide down his chest, hearing him hum in delight before going back to learning my body. He slowly moved towards the lower half of me, his hands more careful as the touches drifted downward. He was teasing, fingers drawing a circle around my erection, causing my heart to race quicker than it had ever before. Blaine slid my briefs down my thighs and past my ankles, taking them and throwing them to the floor. I instantly felt self conscious. I had never been naked like this infront of anyone. But here I was, exposed. I thought of the faint scars on my arms and thighs, some darker than others, and squirmed a bit. Only some light was leaking through the curtains into the room, leaving the rest of the makeshift bedroom without light.  As Blaine got up from his position above me, I wondered if he had spotted a mark. Instead, I eyed him as he took off his own pants and boxers. He stood there, hesitating before walking back to the bed. 

 “Are you okay?” I asked, sitting up just as he began to crawl back on top of me. We met halfway.

“I’m just worried you’ll see something you don’t like.”  

“I don’t think that’s possible.” I leaned in and kissed him, “But if we don’t do something soon, I might die.”

“We don’t want that to happen, do we?” Blaine replied, his hands pressing on my chest to flatten me on the bed. He lowered himself on me just right, causing our cocks to brush each other. I gasped, only to be quieted by Blaine’s mouth. He kissed me messily, tongue pushing past my lips and swirling in my mouth, exploring it freely. He continued to press his hips into mine, his precum dripping onto my cock, making it easier for us to slide against each other. Blaine moaned, making me shiver beneath him. I needed to be closer than this. It felt good, but it wasn’t enough.

“Blaine, could you-“ I paused, the question caught in my throat. He stopped what he was doing and looked at me, waiting. “Just fuck me.” His mouth opened as if he was going to respond, but he didn’t. He leaned over me and came back with things in his hands that I couldn’t see in the dark, I waited for something to happen. I was shaking nervously, knowing that this was it. I had said it, and I didn’t want to take it back. 

“Kurt, you need to relax.” He kissed my thighs over and over, until my body somehow relaxed into his touch. My breathing slowed, heart rate still fast due to adrenalin, but everything felt so good that it didn’t matter. I heard a bottle cap open and close, which I figured was lube. Blaine’s hand verified that, grazing my entrance without warning. I started to get nervous again, but Blaine used his free hand to stop my shaking thigh. His other hand was busy, his finger forming a circle until slipping inside of me. I suddenly felt calm, my nervousness being replaced with want. Blaine continued fingering me, eventually adding another finger. I wanted more, grinding down into his hand the best I could, trying to tell him that I was eager to start. 

“You want this so bad.” He whispered. And I did, I did.

After a few minutes of me trying to get more out of him, he gave in. He sat up, opening the condom and rolling it onto himself.  He took a deep breath.

 “It’s been so long since I’ve done this.” He said it out loud, but I could tell it was mostly directed to himself.  He held onto my hips, clenching his eyes shut as he pushed inside of me inch by inch, my body stretching and burning as I took him. I felt extremely alert, awakened to the thought that all of this was real, that for the first time I wasn’t dreaming. It was an overwhelming thought, one I let go of to give myself the ability to feel what was happening. My mind went blank, my body barely under my own control as I threw my head back onto the pillow behind me, back arching into Blaine’s suddenly confident thrusts. I could tell he was struggling, but not in the way I had expected. He was holding back. I reached out to him, hands running over the beads of sweat forming on his shoulder blades. I scratched down his back, long careful lines, grabbing his attention. Our eyes met. I looked at him, hoping that my eyes conveyed the only thought left in my mind, and I think it worked. He moaned then, increasing the speed and drag of his thrusts. I could feel him everywhere. He was under my skin, running through my veins, wrapped around my heart. His name was trapped in my throat, crawling to get out, my tongue fighting to keep it silent. It escaped, a jumble of letters accompanied by drawn out breaths. Once I started saying it, I couldn’t stop. I kept saying his name as I began to lose myself in the full feeling of Blaine’s cock inside of me. My thighs shook, toes curling, my orgasm building from head to toe. I removed my hands from Blaine’s back and found his face, cradling his cheek in my hand the best I could as he moved quickly. I stilled him, his hips still moving slightly as we looked at each other. The light from the curtains shined across us, the sun beginning to set outside. We kissed. It was slow. Our tongues found each other right away, curling around each other and exploring. One of his hands made its way into my hair, grabbing and pulling as our kiss became less practiced and more in the moment. His tongue licked a line across my lips when we pulled apart, his hands slipping under my back and pushing for me to move. He slid out of me, sitting back and waiting. He helped me into position in his lap, our bodies reconnecting as I began to ride him. He leaned back, watching how I learned how I liked it best. He licked his lips and went in to kiss my neck. The change in position brought me even closer, my senses on overload. I liked the change in control, too, even if I could barely admit it to myself. I kept riding him with his eyes on me until it became too much, I stopped, my body shaking as my orgasm took control of me. I closed my eyes, feeling Blaine still moving inside of me while everything washed over me. I heard him say my name quietly, his hands holding me close. My eyes opened at the sound, watching him as he came, his hips pushing up into me a few more times before he fell back on the bed. I got up and collapsed beside him. 

 “So…” I began as I stared up at the speckled ceiling. “That’s what sex feels like.”

“Yeah.” He was breathing unevenly, his voice coming out funny. “What did you think?”

“I think… that I want to do that every day.” We both laughed. I rolled over and put my arms around him. I thought I felt a tear on my shoulder blade, but I fell asleep before I checked if he was crying. I was feeling too many things.

 The next morning I awoke second, looking around for my clothes and then realizing I had been wearing the same thing for going on three days. I sat there on the bed and gathered all the blankets to put around me. My body hurt in an unfamiliar way, I didn’t want to move. I looked through the doorway and caught a glimpse of Blaine standing beside his desk. Smoke surrounded him as he moved across the room towards the window. I picked up some of the blankets and walked through the doorframe, stopping to take in the image of Blaine leaning out of the window with a cigarette hanging from his lips. 

 “I didn’t know that you smoke.” I said. I said it in a way that sounded exactly like what I was thinking. How many things did I actually know about the man I just had sex with? Did I know anything at all? 

“Just sometimes.” He replied as he removed it from his mouth, blowing smoke around himself and towards the window. “I was addicted when I was your age. I thought it made me more interesting.”

“What were you like when you were my age?” I paused, “How old are you?” He smiled and put the cigarette to his lips, inhaling and exhaling as he removed it again. He turned away from the window, grabbing a chair and putting it beside it so he could talk to me.

“I was very naïve. I slept around a lot. I thought that by trying everything I would be a better writer. I wanted to be famous.” Blaine took a drag. “I’m twenty nine, thirty in four months. I got through college quickly, landed this job because of my parents.”

“You seem so young.” I said quietly, sitting down in a blanket heap on the floor. “You’re not old or anything, honestly. The youngest out of my professors I think.”

“I’m the youngest professor in the school. So, I’m sure of it.” He laughed, taking a final drag and then putting out his cigarette. 

  “I wanted to be famous, too.” I added, “Maybe I still do.”

“I think you could do it.” I smiled at him, shaking my head.

“I really have to go. I’m leaving today and they’re closing the dorms.” I got up, kissed him cheek, and went to get my clothes to put on. I heard a phone ringing, looked for mine to find it had been off all along, and got dressed as slowly as possible. I didn’t want to leave. It was nice hiding here. I finished getting dressed and went over to the bathroom to fix my hair. I walked back towards Blaine and stopped, hearing him talking on the phone. I stood away from him and watched his expressions. He looked so sad in a twisted, happy way. There was smile on his face, one that didn’t make any sense. 

 “I know, I know.” I heard him say. “I’ll be home soon. I love you, Scott.” I knew the name, I knew who it was. I couldn’t hear the other side of the conversation, but I didn’t need to hear anything but what I did to justify my anger. Angry tears began to form in my eyes as I turned towards the door, frustrated and confused. Why? Why did he say that and why did he smile when he did? Why did he look so happy when he talked to him? I put on my jacket and shoes. I reached for the doorknob, Blaine reaching for my shoulder at the same time.

“Hey, no goodbye?” I looked at him, the tears rolling down my cheeks in sync with the movement of my head. “What’s wrong?”

“I heard you talking to him.” I tried to open the door, he held it closed.

“Kurt…he’s my husband, okay? I…I do love him.” 

 “Are you fucking stupid? He hits you, Blaine. That is not someone you should love.”

 “Who should I love then Kurt?” I turned to face him as he trapped me against the door, his eyes searching mine for answers to questions that were so clear, so evident. 

“Don’t make me tell you who to love. I’ve already said too much.”

“Just say it, Kurt.” He was on top of me. I was too hot in my jacket, sweat forming on my forehead.  

“You should love me, Blaine. Okay? Are you happy now? I need to go.” I pushed him lightly away from me and went for the doorknob again. “Tell me that you want me to stay.” I whispered, hoping after I said it that he didn’t hear me. It was quiet. He kissed the back of my neck.

 “I can’t do that.” And I took off. I took the stairs instead of the elevator. I took a taxi to my door, grabbed my bags, took another taxi, and then I got on a train because my heart was breaking. I got on a train because there was nothing left for me in Chicago. It was winter break and the snow filled air was warmer than the inside of my body. I was cold, I was heartbroken, and I was on a train going to a home that felt less safe than a stupid makeshift apartment hidden away in an office building. That was wrong. I was wrong. He was wrong. But when we were together, it felt right. And I decided then, with my head propped up against the train window, that I hated myself just as much as when I arrived in Chicago. I wondered if I would ever be okay again.

When I was five years old, my hiding place was in the backyard behind the bushes. When my dad and I would fight, I would climb back there until I calmed down. He never would look for me there, but I think he knew about it. Which was why when I was eight years old, I moved my hiding place to the storage room in my basement. I built a fort there, amongst boxes of old clothes and toys, and hid there anytime I felt like I needed to get away. After a few years, I grew too big for the small fort. I was twelve, and that’s when I thought I was cool enough not to need a hiding place. And that went on for a few years, as I learned that I could easily lock myself in my bedroom when I wanted to hide. I became a pro at slamming bedroom doors, putting my head under a pillow, and screaming at the top of my lungs. I hid because I didn’t understand myself, the circumstances, and my emotions. I hid because a part of me was always a child that needed a mother who wasn’t there to tell me that I was normal. When I came out to my dad, things got better with time. I didn’t need to hide anymore. I thought I didn’t. But now, here I am on a train, thinking about how I wish I could be hiding away with Blaine. Thinking how maybe I never was a beautiful thing to be hidden away, maybe the inside of me was too ugly.