Sir, Keep On Believing

I am sleeping with my eyes wide open. Wide awake to the sense of touch, or the lack of touch for that matter. Touch is vibrant; it lets you know you are alive even when your brain is sinking into the abyss of daze. My hands were made to be clasped, my shoulders to be hugged. I crave that sense of connection, belonging to the mold that forms between two bodies.

I have found three friends in unexpected places this week. These friendships aren't going to last through the year, much less through my lifetime. These short surprises of companionship are what excites me most about highschool though. All three of them brightened my days, and I will remember them and their impact most at the end of this week.

The Penalty by Beirut