Yellow Paint "Vincent Van Gogh used to eat yellow paint because he thought it would get the happiness inside him. Many people thought he was mad and stupid because the paint was toxic, never mind that it was obvious that eating paint couldn't possibly have any direct correlation to one's happiness, but I never saw that. If you were so unhappy that even the maddest ideas could possibly work, like painting the walls of your internal organs yellow, then you are going to do it. It's really no different than falling in love or taking drugs. There is a greater risk of getting your heart broken or overdosing, but people still do it every day because there was always that chance it could make things better. Everyone has their yellow paint." ~Hope Miles

Why? After I told him I was gay, I went back to my room. Then he sent me a text and said "hey come back.. I have to tell you a secret." I went back there and he kept motioning for me to come closer. Once my ear was about an inch away from his, he whispered so quietly.. Yet every word made my heart beat louder.. "Despite everything you just told me... I really... Really... Wanted to kiss you..." I just looked at him. I didn't know what to say. After about 30 seconds of us just looking at eachother, he put his hand on my back and so softly rubbed it. I laid my head on his chest (he was laying down and I was standing beside him). After a minute he picked up my head and said "...can I?" I didn't know what to say. I nodded. We stared at eachother. His heart was beating just as hard and fast as mine. He put one hand on the top of my head and slowly let it slide down to my jaw. "On the forehead?" He asked. I just ever so slightly nodded. He lightly kissed my forehead for what seemed like forever. It was so innocent and sweet.. Yet so corrupt and evil. I didn't know what to do. I placed my head back on his chest and hugged him. We sat there in silence for a couple minutes then he lifted me up and said, "please.. Never tell anyone about this... Please..." I just smiled and nodded. I stood up and he reached his hand out. I reached back and we playfully just messed with eachother for a little bit. I slowly walked out the door. When I was at the door frame, I turned around and leaned up against it. He smiled at me. I smiled back and turned away. Here's what I wrote down to myself a couple minutes ago: I just can't think strait. I can't walk strait. I can't breathe strait. Ever since he kissed my forehead, I just... Can't. I'm lying in bed right now trying to fix myself but my body is hot and my mind is running. What did that mean? Are we going to be awkward tomorrow morning when we wake up? Is he going to act like it never happened? I've never been sexually attracted to men but by all means, I am very physically and emotionally attracted to him. The way he held me. The way he touched me. The way he whispered in my ear. It's something I've always longed for... But never had. Why him? Why does he make me feel this way? Why does any guy make me feel this way? I'd never do anything beyond kiss a guy. I'm sexually drawn toward girls. But if I know I don't want a man, why am I drawn toward this one; the way he smells, the way he talks, the way he longs for me but knows he can't have me? I just don't understand. I'm laying down in bed... I'm trying to sleep... Trying so hard... What I just won't admit to myself is that I'm really just trying to forget. I'm laying down in bed... I'm trying to forget... Trying so hard... Why?