u/Large-Video5823

I’m pretty new to Fleetwood Mac and I love the song dreams and I’m looking for some more song recommendations.

I have recently been feeling so confused about lots of things, worried about the future, and just overall upset and overwhelmed and I just need to vent and hopefully receive some advice or even just to know I'm not alone. I thought I was a lesbian but old feelings for this boy have come back which feels really weird when I haven't romantically liked a guy in ten months. I've had a fairly good summer but I'm already dreading it being over. I do like the rain but I get such bad seasonal depression and I'm never as happy as I am in summer and living in England the weather is bad for most of the year. I'm also so worried about being in year 11 and doing GCSE's. I really care about doing well in school and I'm going to have to think about college soon too but I want to enjoy my teenage years without wasting them obsessing over school. I love being a teenager and I'm worried about growing up. These might not sound like the biggest problems but they are disturbing my thoughts and I've been crying lots and just feeling so upset. Thanks for reading my rant.

I have recently been feeling so confused about lots of things, worried about the future, and just overall upset and overwhelmed and I just need to vent and hopefully receive some advice or even just to know I'm not alone. I thought I was a lesbian but old feelings for this boy have come back which feels really weird when I haven't romantically liked a guy in ten months. I've had a fairly good summer but I'm already dreading it being over. I do like the rain but I get such bad seasonal depression and I'm never as happy as I am in summer and living in England the weather is bad for most of the year. I'm also so worried about being in year 11 and doing GCSE's. I really care about doing well in school and I'm going to have to think about college soon too but I want to enjoy my teenage years without wasting them obsessing over school. I love being a teenager and I'm worried about growing up. These might not sound like the biggest problems but they are disturbing my thoughts and I've been crying lots and just feeling so upset. Thanks for reading my rant.

So for context I have liked girls for a few years and recently started labelling myself as a lesbian. I have known this boy for three years and I used to really like him.

Currently, I am so confused about my feelings. This boy is one of the sweetest, kindest, and funniest people I know. I love being around him and talking to him and I wish I could see him more often. We're definitely good friends but I would love to be even closer. I used to imagine us together but I don't see myself with guys really. I could imagine kissing him but I think I just crave touch and he's a good looking guy who I trust.

Some of the reasons why I have questioned whether I like him are: wanting to be around him lots, sometimes being nervous or too afraid to hug or compliment him, and kinda getting butterflies if we touch or make eye contact or something. Sometimes it's a bit like the feeling you get when you want to say something to someone but you're worried because they're too "pretty" or too "popular".

I'm not sure whether I get a bit shy around him because I like him or whether it's just because he's so cool and I want to be even closer friends with him. I've felt like this for guys before and it usually passes but this guy is completely different.

I don't think I romantically like him but maybe I do and I'm just completely oblivious. I'm sorry if I haven't explained it well and feel free to ask questions. Thanks for any help!

Edit: I've been thinking about it last night and I think I do like him but I thought I was gay and I'm just so confused.

So for context I have liked girls for a few years and recently started labelling myself as a lesbian. I have known this boy for three years and I used to really like him.

Currently, I am so confused about my feelings. This boy is one of the sweetest, kindest, and funniest people I know. I love being around him and talking to him and I wish I could see him more often. We're definitely good friends but I would love to be even closer. I used to imagine us together but I don't see myself with guys really. I could imagine kissing him but I think I just crave touch and he's a good looking guy who I trust.

Some of the reasons why I have questioned whether I like him are: wanting to be around him lots, sometimes being nervous or too afraid to hug or compliment him, and kinda getting butterflies if we touch or make eye contact or something. Sometimes it's a bit like the feeling you get when you want to say something to someone but you're worried because they're too "pretty" or too "popular".

I'm not sure whether I get a bit shy around him because I like him or whether it's just because he's so cool and I want to be even closer friends with him. I've felt like this for guys before and it usually passes but this guy is completely different.

I don't think I romantically like him but maybe I do and I'm just completely oblivious. I'm sorry if I haven't explained it well and feel free to ask questions. Thanks for any help!

Okay so I (15f) been in a homoerotic friendship with this girl (15f) for a while now and everything is so confusing oh my gosh. We've been on a date, been very touchy (held hands, hand on thighs, cuddled etc), said things like "we should be a couple" and talked about dating numerous times. But recently, I sent her a video saying we should kiss and she replied saying yesss or something along those lines and then a couple of days later she got a boyfriend. This has happened before as well. She has done this before as well, like we have talked about kissing and being together then she just goes and gets a boyfriend. I don't think I like her romantically but it might be something I would like to explore and she is just kind of shutting it down when it gets serious. I know she is into girls too. Please help! I feel so confused.

Okay so I (15f) been in a homoerotic friendship with this girl (15f) for a while now and everything is so confusing oh my gosh. We've been on a date, been very touchy (held hands, hand on thighs, cuddled etc), said things like "we should be a couple" and talked about dating numerous times. But recently, I sent her a video saying we should kiss and she replied saying yesss or something along those lines and then a couple of days later she got a boyfriend. This has happened before as well. She has done this before as well, like we have talked about kissing and being together then she just goes and gets a boyfriend. I don't think I like her romantically but it might be something I would like to explore and she is just kind of shutting it down when it gets serious. I know she is into girls too. Please help! I feel so confused.

I feel like I am always being taught to use descriptive and sophisticated vocabulary but I am a writing a first person novel from the perspective of a teenager so I’m not sure whether it’s appropriate or if it’s okay with simpler vocab.

I’ve never really said this before and I normally just go unlabelled or say I’m gay. Although I have dated guys in the past, I don’t feel any romantic or sexual attraction towards them. I think it’s okay if you find someone attractive the same way straight girls find other girls attractive but I wouldn’t want to date a man. I definitely want to marry a woman in the future although sometimes I wonder what it would be like with a man but I think it’s more curiosity than anything else.

I’ve never really said this before and I normally just go unlabelled or say I’m gay. Although I have dated guys in the past, I don’t feel any romantic or sexual attraction towards them. I think it’s okay if you find someone attractive the same way straight girls find other girls attractive but I wouldn’t want to date a man. I definitely want to marry a woman in the future although sometimes I wonder what it would be like with a man but I think it’s more curiosity than anything else.

Recently I’ve been listening to Lana more and I’m looking for some song recommendations. Some of my faves are: Off to the races, Let the light in, Carmen, Freak, and some others

It was a warm day in February, despite the faint smell of rain in the air. I couldn’t wait to be back at school after a long holiday in Queensland which dragged throughout the whole summer. I traipsed into homeroom despite being weighed down by the monstrosity on my back. Exhaustion filled my body, and it wasn’t even nine in the morning. I don’t know how I’m going to make it to the arvo without falling asleep. My bag made a loud thudding sound as I aggressively shoved it off and sat down.
“Apollo!!” My mate Noah shouted at me even though she was less than a meter away.
“Hey mate, we missed you,” Harley said.
It’s nice to know I was missed by the girls while not being here.
“It’s good to see you bro,” 
I looked up to see Arlo smiling at me contentedly, and then he pulled me into a short hug. 
We all got to chatting quickly, and the tiredness soon wore off after being around Noah’s loud and bubbly personality. She could instantly brighten up a room, and we all loved her for that. It also filled me with joy to see my form teacher. He is a passionate man in his early forties who pours his heart into all of his lessons. Maybe that’s part of the reason why I enjoy English so much. 
I’ve always liked writing ever since I was young: stories about aliens and unicorns, scrapbooks of me and my friends, menus when I would play kitchens with my parents, comic strips. As I grew up, I began to absorb even more literature. I now love to watch plays, read stories, watch films, but even more I love to write. There is nothing better after a long day of school than sitting down and writing about whatever I want. I love how it allows me to escape from reality whether it’s through singing a song I wrote, or writing a romantic poetry about the kind of amorous love I have yet to experience.
Fifteen minutes felt like hours, but finally the bell rang for Maths. I 

despise Maths with a burning passion. I spent the whole lesson gazing out of the window, strangely fascinated by the raindrops falling down the mist-covered window. Hours of lessons and recess dragged on for what seemed like forever until I was at last reunited with my friends. 
It was nice to be back at our spot which had been left untouched for three months. Despite it being a wearied bench with the paint chipping off which overlooked the oval, it felt like home to all of us. We’ve been sitting here every day for the most part of the past four years and it has seen a lot: Noah crying when her ex-girlfriend dumped her, pre-drinks before our first formal, Arlo beating up Flynn after he’d written slurs plastering my locker, the day I came out to my best friends. 
I remember that day well. It all happened in an afternoon in March, just after my fourteenth birthday. Sunshine was shining through the trees, sharing its radiating warmth with us. Everything was absolutely perfect. A sense of pride and euphoria inhabited my body. I had never felt a greater sense of happiness until that day. 
An unfamiliar voice caused my thoughts to return to reality. It was someone who I had not heard before. He was throwing a rugby ball around with the other footy players. A slap on my arm from Arlo brought me back to the conversation and I immediately noticed all eyes were on me. “Who are you looking at?” 
“Do you fancy him?” Harley asked.
They all oohed and ahhed as I had to explain to them the feelings that I couldn’t even explain to myself.
“He’s called Blake.” Arlo confidently explained to me.
“He just transferred here from Melbourne, and he’s already become the school’s biggest heartthrob. Girls are swooning over him, and he’s already rejected three of the most popular and pretty ones.”
I feel my face lighting up and my cheeks flushing with heat as Arlo says this. Maybe I do have a chance with him after all.  
Harley seemed just as interested in him as I was. “Wow he is attractive, isn’t he?” She exclaimed while looking at me, a smile covering her face. I 

couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not, but I assumed that she probably was. 
Half an hour later, I was sitting in my favourite class: English. Next to Blake. I was pretty disinterested; my mind frantically wandering yet still half asleep. I could hear the teacher talking about Julia and something about her being intellectually primitive. I first read 1984 when I was eleven after discovering classical literature and since then I had never gone back. George Orwell has always been one of my favourite authors. I find his writing so interesting and I love how he combines his political opinion on the world with readable prose to create fascinating stories and essays. 
I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard a whisper from next to me “Hey.”
I swivelled my body round and was faced with Blake’s friendly, smiley face gazing directly at me. “I’m Blake, and you must be Apollo.”
“Yes, that’s me.” Fuck, why did I say that. 
“How has Rozelle treated you so far?” I tried to sound calm, despite fear rushing through me. 
“It’s been great. There are some gorgeous new beaches near here where I’ve spent most of my time before starting here. My first day here has been ace so far. I’ve met some cool guys and everyone seems nice.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He smiled at me then returned to his work. 
His beautiful brown curls swept to the side and I could hardly think properly. I kept replaying our interaction in my head. Him remembering my name. The way he looked me in my eyes and smiled at me. The way he spoke so eloquently. He seemed so friendly and confident in everything he did. 
The teacher continued to teach while I continued to make eye contact with Blake. English ended far too quickly, however at least it was the end of the day. Blake and I walked out of school together and then we parted. I knew I would see him again soon but he made waiting feel like painfully longing for tomorrow. Earphones in my ears, listening to Lana Del Rey, I began to approach the school gates.
Arlo was waiting for me, with a smile plastered over his face. He looked so happy to see me. We started walking home together, as we always did. As 

we slowly strolled, we both enjoyed looking at the Agaphanus, Hibiscus, and Canna Lilies which lined our path. Arlo’s favourite had always been the Crepe Myrtle, which produced stunning pink and purple flowers. We walked through the Rozelle Parklands and were absorbed with the Banksia. They grew with such beauty and vibrancy. We’ve walked this way home since we started walking home together in year seven because Arlo loved nature so much. Although this way home was a little longer, it was worth it to make Arlo happy.
“How was your first day back mate?” he asked.
“Yeah it was alright. I mean pretty good. Blake is in my English class and we talked. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this attracted to anyone. His dark skin looks so smooth, his curly hair so soft, his brown eyes so reflective in the sunlight. He’s my type on paper. And it seemed like he might have been interested in me. He spoke to me within five minutes of the lesson; it seemed like he actually cared about me. We kept making eye contact, and he smiled in a way that gave me butterflies.”
“Geez mate. You say this all the time. You normally get a new crush every week or two.”
“But this time feels different. I think we could truly become something.”
I’m not sure whether Arlo agreed with me or not but he smiled and we started talking about something else. “So, how was your day?”
He looked slightly surprised that I had asked but I didn’t know why. “It was pretty chill but I’m so tired and ready to be home.”
“You’re not alone there,” I replied.
We turned the corner, and finally our houses were in sight. We weren’t next-door neighbours although we were close enough that we could hangout whenever we wanted with ease. Despite the heat and my tiredness, I still attempted to be grateful to walk home with Arlo after not seeing him for so long, but in reality, all I could think about was Blake. 
I yanked open the front door with force, threw off my shoes, and tossed my backpack down. My father was still at work but my mother embraced me before I could escape to my room. It felt a bit strange being away from her for the whole day after spending every second with her throughout the Summer. 
My room was awaiting me and my bed looked comfier than ever. I knew that if I laid down, I might never get up, but I had things to do, so I refrained.
Gathering up the energy to take off my school uniform, I pulled my blue polo shirt off over my head, and threw my trousers to the ground. I picked them up and folded them, before placing them neatly into my wardrobe in order to maintain my semi-tidy bedroom. There were a few items of clothing abandoned at the bottom of my wardrobe and my room could do with being hoovered but that could be left till later. Or more realistically: tomorrow. 
I sauntered into my bathroom and removed the rest of my undergarments before getting in the shower. The cold water dripped down my face, wetting my hair and body. The cool water was refreshing after being under the Australian sun for hours. I enjoyed the blazing heat but it could get too much sometimes. At this moment, the cold of the water consumed my body; my brain was unable to think about anything else. My thoughts were at ease for the first time all day. 
I didn’t have any sense of how long I had been standing there. The cold was beginning to get to me, so I reluctantly got out. I chucked on the first pair of pyjamas I could find before my mum called me down for tea. I could hear my dad’s voice downstairs and the sounds of the pot bubbling away. My mum was humming a Kylie Minogue song and dishing up the food at the table. The smell of vegetable soup found its way into my nostrils as I sat down.
My parents’ smiling faces were awaiting me. It was somehow calming to sit down with them after a long and vociferous day. Questions were fired at me at a rapid pace. “How was your day?”
“Did you meet any new people?”
“Was it nice to see Arlo after the Summer?”
“How were your lessons?”

Overwhelm engulfed my body.

All I managed to say at first was, “It was good.” 
I was met with welcoming and smiling faces which reminded me that I could tell them more. “I enjoyed seeing my friends again, and I met a new boy called Blake. He seems really nice.”
“Ooooh,” my mum cooed.
“Tell us more” my dad chimed in.
“Chill out guys, he’s just a friend.” A small but certain smirk crept over my face, and I wasn’t sure whether I had given myself away. I couldn’t wait any longer to dive into the soup. Warm, sweet goodness dripped off of my tongue, and found its way down my throat; It was absolutely delicious. A sensation of jubilation overcame me. I couldn’t imagine anything better to be doing right now. 
My mum noticed the joy on my face. “Is it nice?”
“It’s absolutely amazing. You should make this more often.” 
“I’m pleased you like it sweetheart.”
From what I knew, it was a new recipe which was totally a success. There was nothing left except the residue in the bowls after five minutes. My mum handed us each a piece of bread, and we used it to enjoy even more of this delicacy.
After we had all finished eating, we parted, and I went up to my bedroom to chill out. I sat down at my desk and rummaged through the bottom draw to find my notebook. It stays hidden in there so no-one can accidentally stumble upon it. I flick through some of the recent pages: diary entries, poems, random thoughts. If someone read some of these pages, I would be absolutely mortified. The only person I’ve ever shown my poems to is Arlo. He can occasionally give helpful feedback, but most of the time he just spends ages telling me how amazing they are, and how he thinks I need to become a writer. 
It has always been a dream of mine to become a professional writer, but I don’t know how realistic it is. Unlike Arlo who wants to become an Actor and could totally do it, I’m nowhere near as talented as him. I could watch him perform all day; he’s seriously amazing. He first showed me a sketch he devised a few years ago. I got goosebumps all over. I never knew how incredible his acting was. Ever since then, he would show me his acting, and I would show him my poetry. We do it regularly, and it's one of my favourite parts of the week. 
I checked my watch: 11:30. It was getting late. I clambered over the pile of clothes on my floor and got into bed, still clutching my notebook. I grabbed the blue pen from my bedside table and began to write.

Reds, blues, oranges, yellows scattered throughout the park, 
It was the little things which brought joy,
The sweet scents mixed with fruity fragrances filled the air.

It was a warm day in February, despite the faint smell of rain in the air. I couldn’t wait to be back at school after a long holiday in Queensland which dragged throughout the whole summer. I traipsed into homeroom despite being weighed down by the monstrosity on my back. Exhaustion filled my body, and it wasn’t even nine in the morning. I don’t know how I’m going to make it to the arvo without falling asleep. My bag made a loud thudding sound as I aggressively shoved it off and sat down.
“Apollo!!” My mate Noah shouted at me even though she was less than a meter away.
“Hey mate, we missed you,” Harley said.
It’s nice to know I was missed by the girls while not being here.
“It’s good to see you bro,” 
I looked up to see Arlo smiling at me contentedly, and then he pulled me into a short hug. 
We all got to chatting quickly, and the tiredness soon wore off after being around Noah’s loud and bubbly personality. She could instantly brighten up a room, and we all loved her for that. It also filled me with joy to see my form teacher. He is a passionate man in his early forties who pours his heart into all of his lessons. Maybe that’s part of the reason why I enjoy English so much. 
I’ve always liked writing ever since I was young: stories about aliens and unicorns, scrapbooks of me and my friends, menus when I would play kitchens with my parents, comic strips. As I grew up, I began to absorb even more literature. I now love to watch plays, read stories, watch films, but even more I love to write. There is nothing better after a long day of school than sitting down and writing about whatever I want. I love how it allows me to escape from reality whether it’s through singing a song I wrote, or writing a romantic poetry about the kind of amorous love I have yet to experience.
Fifteen minutes felt like hours, but finally the bell rang for Maths. I 

despise Maths with a burning passion. I spent the whole lesson gazing out of the window, strangely fascinated by the raindrops falling down the mist-covered window. Hours of lessons and recess dragged on for what seemed like forever until I was at last reunited with my friends. 
It was nice to be back at our spot which had been left untouched for three months. Despite it being a wearied bench with the paint chipping off which overlooked the oval, it felt like home to all of us. We’ve been sitting here every day for the most part of the past four years and it has seen a lot: Noah crying when her ex-girlfriend dumped her, pre-drinks before our first formal, Arlo beating up Flynn after he’d written slurs plastering my locker, the day I came out to my best friends. 
I remember that day well. It all happened in an afternoon in March, just after my fourteenth birthday. Sunshine was shining through the trees, sharing its radiating warmth with us. Everything was absolutely perfect. A sense of pride and euphoria inhabited my body. I had never felt a greater sense of happiness until that day. 
An unfamiliar voice caused my thoughts to return to reality. It was someone who I had not heard before. He was throwing a rugby ball around with the other footy players. A slap on my arm from Arlo brought me back to the conversation and I immediately noticed all eyes were on me. “Who are you looking at?” 
“Do you fancy him?” Harley asked.
They all oohed and ahhed as I had to explain to them the feelings that I couldn’t even explain to myself.
“He’s called Blake.” Arlo confidently explained to me.
“He just transferred here from Melbourne, and he’s already become the school’s biggest heartthrob. Girls are swooning over him, and he’s already rejected three of the most popular and pretty ones.”
I feel my face lighting up and my cheeks flushing with heat as Arlo says this. Maybe I do have a chance with him after all.  
Harley seemed just as interested in him as I was. “Wow he is attractive, isn’t he?” She exclaimed while looking at me, a smile covering her face. I 

couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not, but I assumed that she probably was. 
Half an hour later, I was sitting in my favourite class: English. Next to Blake. I was pretty disinterested; my mind frantically wandering yet still half asleep. I could hear the teacher talking about Julia and something about her being intellectually primitive. I first read 1984 when I was eleven after discovering classical literature and since then I had never gone back. George Orwell has always been one of my favourite authors. I find his writing so interesting and I love how he combines his political opinion on the world with readable prose to create fascinating stories and essays. 
I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard a whisper from next to me “Hey.”
I swivelled my body round and was faced with Blake’s friendly, smiley face gazing directly at me. “I’m Blake, and you must be Apollo.”
“Yes, that’s me.” Fuck, why did I say that. 
“How has Rozelle treated you so far?” I tried to sound calm, despite fear rushing through me. 
“It’s been great. There are some gorgeous new beaches near here where I’ve spent most of my time before starting here. My first day here has been ace so far. I’ve met some cool guys and everyone seems nice.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He smiled at me then returned to his work. 
His beautiful brown curls swept to the side and I could hardly think properly. I kept replaying our interaction in my head. Him remembering my name. The way he looked me in my eyes and smiled at me. The way he spoke so eloquently. He seemed so friendly and confident in everything he did. 
The teacher continued to teach while I continued to make eye contact with Blake. English ended far too quickly, however at least it was the end of the day. Blake and I walked out of school together and then we parted. I knew I would see him again soon but he made waiting feel like painfully longing for tomorrow. Earphones in my ears, listening to Lana Del Rey, I began to approach the school gates.
Arlo was waiting for me, with a smile plastered over his face. He looked so happy to see me. We started walking home together, as we always did. As 

we slowly strolled, we both enjoyed looking at the Agaphanus, Hibiscus, and Canna Lilies which lined our path. Arlo’s favourite had always been the Crepe Myrtle, which produced stunning pink and purple flowers. We walked through the Rozelle Parklands and were absorbed with the Banksia. They grew with such beauty and vibrancy. We’ve walked this way home since we started walking home together in year seven because Arlo loved nature so much. Although this way home was a little longer, it was worth it to make Arlo happy.
“How was your first day back mate?” he asked.
“Yeah it was alright. I mean pretty good. Blake is in my English class and we talked. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this attracted to anyone. His dark skin looks so smooth, his curly hair so soft, his brown eyes so reflective in the sunlight. He’s my type on paper. And it seemed like he might have been interested in me. He spoke to me within five minutes of the lesson; it seemed like he actually cared about me. We kept making eye contact, and he smiled in a way that gave me butterflies.”
“Geez mate. You say this all the time. You normally get a new crush every week or two.”
“But this time feels different. I think we could truly become something.”
I’m not sure whether Arlo agreed with me or not but he smiled and we started talking about something else. “So, how was your day?”
He looked slightly surprised that I had asked but I didn’t know why. “It was pretty chill but I’m so tired and ready to be home.”
“You’re not alone there,” I replied.
We turned the corner, and finally our houses were in sight. We weren’t next-door neighbours although we were close enough that we could hangout whenever we wanted with ease. Despite the heat and my tiredness, I still attempted to be grateful to walk home with Arlo after not seeing him for so long, but in reality, all I could think about was Blake. 
I yanked open the front door with force, threw off my shoes, and tossed my backpack down. My father was still at work but my mother embraced me before I could escape to my room. It felt a bit strange being away from her for the whole day after spending every second with her throughout the Summer. 
My room was awaiting me and my bed looked comfier than ever. I knew that if I laid down, I might never get up, but I had things to do, so I refrained.
Gathering up the energy to take off my school uniform, I pulled my blue polo shirt off over my head, and threw my trousers to the ground. I picked them up and folded them, before placing them neatly into my wardrobe in order to maintain my semi-tidy bedroom. There were a few items of clothing abandoned at the bottom of my wardrobe and my room could do with being hoovered but that could be left till later. Or more realistically: tomorrow. 
I sauntered into my bathroom and removed the rest of my undergarments before getting in the shower. The cold water dripped down my face, wetting my hair and body. The cool water was refreshing after being under the Australian sun for hours. I enjoyed the blazing heat but it could get too much sometimes. At this moment, the cold of the water consumed my body; my brain was unable to think about anything else. My thoughts were at ease for the first time all day. 
I didn’t have any sense of how long I had been standing there. The cold was beginning to get to me, so I reluctantly got out. I chucked on the first pair of pyjamas I could find before my mum called me down for tea. I could hear my dad’s voice downstairs and the sounds of the pot bubbling away. My mum was humming a Kylie Minogue song and dishing up the food at the table. The smell of vegetable soup found its way into my nostrils as I sat down.
My parents’ smiling faces were awaiting me. It was somehow calming to sit down with them after a long and vociferous day. Questions were fired at me at a rapid pace. “How was your day?”
“Did you meet any new people?”
“Was it nice to see Arlo after the Summer?”
“How were your lessons?”

Overwhelm engulfed my body.

All I managed to say at first was, “It was good.” 
I was met with welcoming and smiling faces which reminded me that I could tell them more. “I enjoyed seeing my friends again, and I met a new boy called Blake. He seems really nice.”
“Ooooh,” my mum cooed.
“Tell us more” my dad chimed in.
“Chill out guys, he’s just a friend.” A small but certain smirk crept over my face, and I wasn’t sure whether I had given myself away. I couldn’t wait any longer to dive into the soup. Warm, sweet goodness dripped off of my tongue, and found its way down my throat; It was absolutely delicious. A sensation of jubilation overcame me. I couldn’t imagine anything better to be doing right now. 
My mum noticed the joy on my face. “Is it nice?”
“It’s absolutely amazing. You should make this more often.” 
“I’m pleased you like it sweetheart.”
From what I knew, it was a new recipe which was totally a success. There was nothing left except the residue in the bowls after five minutes. My mum handed us each a piece of bread, and we used it to enjoy even more of this delicacy.
After we had all finished eating, we parted, and I went up to my bedroom to chill out. I sat down at my desk and rummaged through the bottom draw to find my notebook. It stays hidden in there so no-one can accidentally stumble upon it. I flick through some of the recent pages: diary entries, poems, random thoughts. If someone read some of these pages, I would be absolutely mortified. The only person I’ve ever shown my poems to is Arlo. He can occasionally give helpful feedback, but most of the time he just spends ages telling me how amazing they are, and how he thinks I need to become a writer. 
It has always been a dream of mine to become a professional writer, but I don’t know how realistic it is. Unlike Arlo who wants to become an Actor and could totally do it, I’m nowhere near as talented as him. I could watch him perform all day; he’s seriously amazing. He first showed me a sketch he devised a few years ago. I got goosebumps all over. I never knew how incredible his acting was. Ever since then, he would show me his acting, and I would show him my poetry. We do it regularly, and it's one of my favourite parts of the week. 
I checked my watch: 11:30. It was getting late. I clambered over the pile of clothes on my floor and got into bed, still clutching my notebook. I grabbed the blue pen from my bedside table and began to write.

Reds, blues, oranges, yellows scattered throughout the park, 
It was the little things which brought joy,
The sweet scents mixed with fruity fragrances filled the air.
 
The summer breeze and the flowers were always my favourite. 

It was a warm day in February, despite the faint smell of rain in the air. I couldn’t wait to be back at school after a long holiday in Queensland which dragged throughout the whole summer. I traipsed into homeroom despite being weighed down by the monstrosity on my back. Exhaustion filled my body, and it wasn’t even nine in the morning. I don’t know how I’m going to make it to the arvo without falling asleep. My bag made a loud thudding sound as I aggressively shoved it off and sat down.
“Apollo!!” My mate Noah shouted at me even though she was less than a meter away.
“Hey mate, we missed you,” Harley said.
It’s nice to know I was missed by the girls while not being here.
“It’s good to see you bro,” 
I looked up to see Arlo smiling at me contentedly, and then he pulled me into a short hug. 
We all got to chatting quickly, and the tiredness soon wore off after being around Noah’s loud and bubbly personality. She could instantly brighten up a room, and we all loved her for that. It also filled me with joy to see my form teacher. He is a passionate man in his early forties who pours his heart into all of his lessons. Maybe that’s part of the reason why I enjoy English so much. 
I’ve always liked writing ever since I was young: stories about aliens and unicorns, scrapbooks of me and my friends, menus when I would play kitchens with my parents, comic strips. As I grew up, I began to absorb even more literature. I now love to watch plays, read stories, watch films, but even more I love to write. There is nothing better after a long day of school than sitting down and writing about whatever I want. I love how it allows me to escape from reality whether it’s through singing a song I wrote, or writing a romantic poetry about the kind of amorous love I have yet to experience.
Fifteen minutes felt like hours, but finally the bell rang for Maths. I 

despise Maths with a burning passion. I spent the whole lesson gazing out of the window, strangely fascinated by the raindrops falling down the mist-covered window. Hours of lessons and recess dragged on for what seemed like forever until I was at last reunited with my friends. 
It was nice to be back at our spot which had been left untouched for three months. Despite it being a wearied bench with the paint chipping off which overlooked the oval, it felt like home to all of us. We’ve been sitting here every day for the most part of the past four years and it has seen a lot: Noah crying when her ex-girlfriend dumped her, pre-drinks before our first formal, Arlo beating up Flynn after he’d written slurs plastering my locker, the day I came out to my best friends. 
I remember that day well. It all happened in an afternoon in March, just after my fourteenth birthday. Sunshine was shining through the trees, sharing its radiating warmth with us. Everything was absolutely perfect. A sense of pride and euphoria inhabited my body. I had never felt a greater sense of happiness until that day. 
An unfamiliar voice caused my thoughts to return to reality. It was someone who I had not heard before. He was throwing a rugby ball around with the other footy players. A slap on my arm from Arlo brought me back to the conversation and I immediately noticed all eyes were on me. “Who are you looking at?” 
“Do you fancy him?” Harley asked.
They all oohed and ahhed as I had to explain to them the feelings that I couldn’t even explain to myself.
“He’s called Blake.” Arlo confidently explained to me.
“He just transferred here from Melbourne, and he’s already become the school’s biggest heartthrob. Girls are swooning over him, and he’s already rejected three of the most popular and pretty ones.”
I feel my face lighting up and my cheeks flushing with heat as Arlo says this. Maybe I do have a chance with him after all.  
Harley seemed just as interested in him as I was. “Wow he is attractive, isn’t he?” She exclaimed while looking at me, a smile covering her face. I 

couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not, but I assumed that she probably was. 
Half an hour later, I was sitting in my favourite class: English. Next to Blake. I was pretty disinterested; my mind frantically wandering yet still half asleep. I could hear the teacher talking about Julia and something about her being intellectually primitive. I first read 1984 when I was eleven after discovering classical literature and since then I had never gone back. George Orwell has always been one of my favourite authors. I find his writing so interesting and I love how he combines his political opinion on the world with readable prose to create fascinating stories and essays. 
I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard a whisper from next to me “Hey.”
I swivelled my body round and was faced with Blake’s friendly, smiley face gazing directly at me. “I’m Blake, and you must be Apollo.”
“Yes, that’s me.” Fuck, why did I say that. 
“How has Rozelle treated you so far?” I tried to sound calm, despite fear rushing through me. 
“It’s been great. There are some gorgeous new beaches near here where I’ve spent most of my time before starting here. My first day here has been ace so far. I’ve met some cool guys and everyone seems nice.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He smiled at me then returned to his work. 
His beautiful brown curls swept to the side and I could hardly think properly. I kept replaying our interaction in my head. Him remembering my name. The way he looked me in my eyes and smiled at me. The way he spoke so eloquently. He seemed so friendly and confident in everything he did. 
The teacher continued to teach while I continued to make eye contact with Blake. English ended far too quickly, however at least it was the end of the day. Blake and I walked out of school together and then we parted. I knew I would see him again soon but he made waiting feel like painfully longing for tomorrow. Earphones in my ears, listening to Lana Del Rey, I began to approach the school gates.
Arlo was waiting for me, with a smile plastered over his face. He looked so happy to see me. We started walking home together, as we always did. As 

we slowly strolled, we both enjoyed looking at the Agaphanus, Hibiscus, and Canna Lilies which lined our path. Arlo’s favourite had always been the Crepe Myrtle, which produced stunning pink and purple flowers. We walked through the Rozelle Parklands and were absorbed with the Banksia. They grew with such beauty and vibrancy. We’ve walked this way home since we started walking home together in year seven because Arlo loved nature so much. Although this way home was a little longer, it was worth it to make Arlo happy.
“How was your first day back mate?” he asked.
“Yeah it was alright. I mean pretty good. Blake is in my English class and we talked. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this attracted to anyone. His dark skin looks so smooth, his curly hair so soft, his brown eyes so reflective in the sunlight. He’s my type on paper. And it seemed like he might have been interested in me. He spoke to me within five minutes of the lesson; it seemed like he actually cared about me. We kept making eye contact, and he smiled in a way that gave me butterflies.”
“Geez mate. You say this all the time. You normally get a new crush every week or two.”
“But this time feels different. I think we could truly become something.”
I’m not sure whether Arlo agreed with me or not but he smiled and we started talking about something else. “So, how was your day?”
He looked slightly surprised that I had asked but I didn’t know why. “It was pretty chill but I’m so tired and ready to be home.”
“You’re not alone there,” I replied.
We turned the corner, and finally our houses were in sight. We weren’t next-door neighbours although we were close enough that we could hangout whenever we wanted with ease. Despite the heat and my tiredness, I still attempted to be grateful to walk home with Arlo after not seeing him for so long, but in reality, all I could think about was Blake. 
I yanked open the front door with force, threw off my shoes, and tossed my backpack down. My father was still at work but my mother embraced me before I could escape to my room. It felt a bit strange being away from her for the whole day after spending every second with her throughout the Summer. 
My room was awaiting me and my bed looked comfier than ever. I knew that if I laid down, I might never get up, but I had things to do, so I refrained.
Gathering up the energy to take off my school uniform, I pulled my blue polo shirt off over my head, and threw my trousers to the ground. I picked them up and folded them, before placing them neatly into my wardrobe in order to maintain my semi-tidy bedroom. There were a few items of clothing abandoned at the bottom of my wardrobe and my room could do with being hoovered but that could be left till later. Or more realistically: tomorrow. 
I sauntered into my bathroom and removed the rest of my undergarments before getting in the shower. The cold water dripped down my face, wetting my hair and body. The cool water was refreshing after being under the Australian sun for hours. I enjoyed the blazing heat but it could get too much sometimes. At this moment, the cold of the water consumed my body; my brain was unable to think about anything else. My thoughts were at ease for the first time all day. 
I didn’t have any sense of how long I had been standing there. The cold was beginning to get to me, so I reluctantly got out. I chucked on the first pair of pyjamas I could find before my mum called me down for tea. I could hear my dad’s voice downstairs and the sounds of the pot bubbling away. My mum was humming a Kylie Minogue song and dishing up the food at the table. The smell of vegetable soup found its way into my nostrils as I sat down.
My parents’ smiling faces were awaiting me. It was somehow calming to sit down with them after a long and vociferous day. Questions were fired at me at a rapid pace. “How was your day?”
“Did you meet any new people?”
“Was it nice to see Arlo after the Summer?”
“How were your lessons?”

Overwhelm engulfed my body.

All I managed to say at first was, “It was good.” 
I was met with welcoming and smiling faces which reminded me that I could tell them more. “I enjoyed seeing my friends again, and I met a new boy called Blake. He seems really nice.”
“Ooooh,” my mum cooed.
“Tell us more” my dad chimed in.
“Chill out guys, he’s just a friend.” A small but certain smirk crept over my face, and I wasn’t sure whether I had given myself away. I couldn’t wait any longer to dive into the soup. Warm, sweet goodness dripped off of my tongue, and found its way down my throat; It was absolutely delicious. A sensation of jubilation overcame me. I couldn’t imagine anything better to be doing right now. 
My mum noticed the joy on my face. “Is it nice?”
“It’s absolutely amazing. You should make this more often.” 
“I’m pleased you like it sweetheart.”
From what I knew, it was a new recipe which was totally a success. There was nothing left except the residue in the bowls after five minutes. My mum handed us each a piece of bread, and we used it to enjoy even more of this delicacy.
After we had all finished eating, we parted, and I went up to my bedroom to chill out. I sat down at my desk and rummaged through the bottom draw to find my notebook. It stays hidden in there so no-one can accidentally stumble upon it. I flick through some of the recent pages: diary entries, poems, random thoughts. If someone read some of these pages, I would be absolutely mortified. The only person I’ve ever shown my poems to is Arlo. He can occasionally give helpful feedback, but most of the time he just spends ages telling me how amazing they are, and how he thinks I need to become a writer. 
It has always been a dream of mine to become a professional writer, but I don’t know how realistic it is. Unlike Arlo who wants to become an Actor and could totally do it, I’m nowhere near as talented as him. I could watch him perform all day; he’s seriously amazing. He first showed me a sketch he devised a few years ago. I got goosebumps all over. I never knew how incredible his acting was. Ever since then, he would show me his acting, and I would show him my poetry. We do it regularly, and it's one of my favourite parts of the week. 
I checked my watch: 11:30. It was getting late. I clambered over the pile of clothes on my floor and got into bed, still clutching my notebook. I grabbed the blue pen from my bedside table and began to write.

Reds, blues, oranges, yellows scattered throughout the park, 
It was the little things which brought joy,
The sweet scents mixed with fruity fragrances filled the air.
 
The summer breeze and the flowers were always my favourite.

It was a warm day in February, despite the faint smell of rain in the air. I couldn’t wait to be back at school after a long holiday in Queensland which dragged throughout the whole summer. I traipsed into homeroom despite being weighed down by the monstrosity on my back. Exhaustion filled my body, and it wasn’t even nine in the morning. I don’t know how I’m going to make it to the arvo without falling asleep. My bag made a loud thudding sound as I aggressively shoved it off and sat down.
“Apollo!!” My mate Noah shouted at me even though she was less than a meter away.
“Hey mate, we missed you,” Harley said.
It’s nice to know I was missed by the girls while not being here.
“It’s good to see you bro,” 
I looked up to see Arlo smiling at me contentedly, and then he pulled me into a short hug. 
We all got to chatting quickly, and the tiredness soon wore off after being around Noah’s loud and bubbly personality. She could instantly brighten up a room, and we all loved her for that. It also filled me with joy to see my form teacher. He is a passionate man in his early forties who pours his heart into all of his lessons. Maybe that’s part of the reason why I enjoy English so much. 
I’ve always liked writing ever since I was young: stories about aliens and unicorns, scrapbooks of me and my friends, menus when I would play kitchens with my parents, comic strips. As I grew up, I began to absorb even more literature. I now love to watch plays, read stories, watch films, but even more I love to write. There is nothing better after a long day of school than sitting down and writing about whatever I want. I love how it allows me to escape from reality whether it’s through singing a song I wrote, or writing a romantic poetry about the kind of amorous love I have yet to experience.
Fifteen minutes felt like hours, but finally the bell rang for Maths. I 

despise Maths with a burning passion. I spent the whole lesson gazing out of the window, strangely fascinated by the raindrops falling down the mist-covered window. Hours of lessons and recess dragged on for what seemed like forever until I was at last reunited with my friends. 
It was nice to be back at our spot which had been left untouched for three months. Despite it being a wearied bench with the paint chipping off which overlooked the oval, it felt like home to all of us. We’ve been sitting here every day for the most part of the past four years and it has seen a lot: Noah crying when her ex-girlfriend dumped her, pre-drinks before our first formal, Arlo beating up Flynn after he’d written slurs plastering my locker, the day I came out to my best friends. 
I remember that day well. It all happened in an afternoon in March, just after my fourteenth birthday. Sunshine was shining through the trees, sharing its radiating warmth with us. Everything was absolutely perfect. A sense of pride and euphoria inhabited my body. I had never felt a greater sense of happiness until that day. 
An unfamiliar voice caused my thoughts to return to reality. It was someone who I had not heard before. He was throwing a rugby ball around with the other footy players. A slap on my arm from Arlo brought me back to the conversation and I immediately noticed all eyes were on me. “Who are you looking at?” 
“Do you fancy him?” Harley asked.
They all oohed and ahhed as I had to explain to them the feelings that I couldn’t even explain to myself.
“He’s called Blake.” Arlo confidently explained to me.
“He just transferred here from Melbourne, and he’s already become the school’s biggest heartthrob. Girls are swooning over him, and he’s already rejected three of the most popular and pretty ones.”
I feel my face lighting up and my cheeks flushing with heat as Arlo says this. Maybe I do have a chance with him after all.  
Harley seemed just as interested in him as I was. “Wow he is attractive, isn’t he?” She exclaimed while looking at me, a smile covering her face. I 

couldn’t tell whether she was being sarcastic or not, but I assumed that she probably was. 
Half an hour later, I was sitting in my favourite class: English. Next to Blake. I was pretty disinterested; my mind frantically wandering yet still half asleep. I could hear the teacher talking about Julia and something about her being intellectually primitive. I first read 1984 when I was eleven after discovering classical literature and since then I had never gone back. George Orwell has always been one of my favourite authors. I find his writing so interesting and I love how he combines his political opinion on the world with readable prose to create fascinating stories and essays. 
I felt a tap on my shoulder and heard a whisper from next to me “Hey.”
I swivelled my body round and was faced with Blake’s friendly, smiley face gazing directly at me. “I’m Blake, and you must be Apollo.”
“Yes, that’s me.” Fuck, why did I say that. 
“How has Rozelle treated you so far?” I tried to sound calm, despite fear rushing through me. 
“It’s been great. There are some gorgeous new beaches near here where I’ve spent most of my time before starting here. My first day here has been ace so far. I’ve met some cool guys and everyone seems nice.”
“I’m glad you’re enjoying it.” He smiled at me then returned to his work. 
His beautiful brown curls swept to the side and I could hardly think properly. I kept replaying our interaction in my head. Him remembering my name. The way he looked me in my eyes and smiled at me. The way he spoke so eloquently. He seemed so friendly and confident in everything he did. 
The teacher continued to teach while I continued to make eye contact with Blake. English ended far too quickly, however at least it was the end of the day. Blake and I walked out of school together and then we parted. I knew I would see him again soon but he made waiting feel like painfully longing for tomorrow. Earphones in my ears, listening to Lana Del Rey, I began to approach the school gates.
Arlo was waiting for me, with a smile plastered over his face. He looked so happy to see me. We started walking home together, as we always did. As 

we slowly strolled, we both enjoyed looking at the Agaphanus, Hibiscus, and Canna Lilies which lined our path. Arlo’s favourite had always been the Crepe Myrtle, which produced stunning pink and purple flowers. We walked through the Rozelle Parklands and were absorbed with the Banksia. They grew with such beauty and vibrancy. We’ve walked this way home since we started walking home together in year seven because Arlo loved nature so much. Although this way home was a little longer, it was worth it to make Arlo happy.
“How was your first day back mate?” he asked.
“Yeah it was alright. I mean pretty good. Blake is in my English class and we talked. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this attracted to anyone. His dark skin looks so smooth, his curly hair so soft, his brown eyes so reflective in the sunlight. He’s my type on paper. And it seemed like he might have been interested in me. He spoke to me within five minutes of the lesson; it seemed like he actually cared about me. We kept making eye contact, and he smiled in a way that gave me butterflies.”
“Geez mate. You say this all the time. You normally get a new crush every week or two.”
“But this time feels different. I think we could truly become something.”
I’m not sure whether Arlo agreed with me or not but he smiled and we started talking about something else. “So, how was your day?”
He looked slightly surprised that I had asked but I didn’t know why. “It was pretty chill but I’m so tired and ready to be home.”
“You’re not alone there,” I replied.
We turned the corner, and finally our houses were in sight. We weren’t next-door neighbours although we were close enough that we could hangout whenever we wanted with ease. Despite the heat and my tiredness, I still attempted to be grateful to walk home with Arlo after not seeing him for so long, but in reality, all I could think about was Blake. 
I yanked open the front door with force, threw off my shoes, and tossed my backpack down. My father was still at work but my mother embraced me before I could escape to my room. It felt a bit strange being away from her for the whole day after spending every second with her throughout the Summer. 
My room was awaiting me and my bed looked comfier than ever. I knew that if I laid down, I might never get up, but I had things to do, so I refrained.
Gathering up the energy to take off my school uniform, I pulled my blue polo shirt off over my head, and threw my trousers to the ground. I picked them up and folded them, before placing them neatly into my wardrobe in order to maintain my semi-tidy bedroom. There were a few items of clothing abandoned at the bottom of my wardrobe and my room could do with being hoovered but that could be left till later. Or more realistically: tomorrow. 
I sauntered into my bathroom and removed the rest of my undergarments before getting in the shower. The cold water dripped down my face, wetting my hair and body. The cool water was refreshing after being under the Australian sun for hours. I enjoyed the blazing heat but it could get too much sometimes. At this moment, the cold of the water consumed my body; my brain was unable to think about anything else. My thoughts were at ease for the first time all day. 
I didn’t have any sense of how long I had been standing there. The cold was beginning to get to me, so I reluctantly got out. I chucked on the first pair of pyjamas I could find before my mum called me down for tea. I could hear my dad’s voice downstairs and the sounds of the pot bubbling away. My mum was humming a Kylie Minogue song and dishing up the food at the table. The smell of vegetable soup found its way into my nostrils as I sat down.
My parents’ smiling faces were awaiting me. It was somehow calming to sit down with them after a long and vociferous day. Questions were fired at me at a rapid pace. “How was your day?”
“Did you meet any new people?”
“Was it nice to see Arlo after the Summer?”
“How were your lessons?”

Overwhelm engulfed my body.

All I managed to say at first was, “It was good.” 
I was met with welcoming and smiling faces which reminded me that I could tell them more. “I enjoyed seeing my friends again, and I met a new boy called Blake. He seems really nice.”
“Ooooh,” my mum cooed.
“Tell us more” my dad chimed in.
“Chill out guys, he’s just a friend.” A small but certain smirk crept over my face, and I wasn’t sure whether I had given myself away. I couldn’t wait any longer to dive into the soup. Warm, sweet goodness dripped off of my tongue, and found its way down my throat; It was absolutely delicious. A sensation of jubilation overcame me. I couldn’t imagine anything better to be doing right now. 
My mum noticed the joy on my face. “Is it nice?”
“It’s absolutely amazing. You should make this more often.” 
“I’m pleased you like it sweetheart.”
From what I knew, it was a new recipe which was totally a success. There was nothing left except the residue in the bowls after five minutes. My mum handed us each a piece of bread, and we used it to enjoy even more of this delicacy.
After we had all finished eating, we parted, and I went up to my bedroom to chill out. I sat down at my desk and rummaged through the bottom draw to find my notebook. It stays hidden in there so no-one can accidentally stumble upon it. I flick through some of the recent pages: diary entries, poems, random thoughts. If someone read some of these pages, I would be absolutely mortified. The only person I’ve ever shown my poems to is Arlo. He can occasionally give helpful feedback, but most of the time he just spends ages telling me how amazing they are, and how he thinks I need to become a writer. 
It has always been a dream of mine to become a professional writer, but I don’t know how realistic it is. Unlike Arlo who wants to become an Actor and could totally do it, I’m nowhere near as talented as him. I could watch him perform all day; he’s seriously amazing. He first showed me a sketch he devised a few years ago. I got goosebumps all over. I never knew how incredible his acting was. Ever since then, he would show me his acting, and I would show him my poetry. We do it regularly, and it's one of my favourite parts of the week. 
I checked my watch: 11:30. It was getting late. I clambered over the pile of clothes on my floor and got into bed, still clutching my notebook. I grabbed the blue pen from my bedside table and began to write.

Reds, blues, oranges, yellows scattered throughout the park, 
It was the little things which brought joy,
The sweet scents mixed with fruity fragrances filled the air.
 
The summer breeze and the flowers were always my favourite.

Does anyone know where I can get skateboard lessons in or near to Exeter? I’m 15 and a beginner/intermediate.

Thanks!!

I’m already very happy with my sexuality and appearance but how can I look more gay at school with a uniform please 🙏 I’m a girl btw

I’m already very happy with my sexuality and appearance but how can I look more gay at school with a uniform please 🙏 I’m a girl btw

hey guys so I’m in school and the teachers are really strict about facial piercings. In the summer holidays we have around 6 weeks off so I was thinking of getting it done then so it will have six weeks of being left completely alone, then after that I was thinking of either putting surgical tape over it then covering it with makeup but apparently this can trap bacteria and not be good or just replacing it with a clear stud but I don’t want to take it out to early. Are there any options around this please or should I just not get it done?

edit: thanks for all the help guys but I’m so impatient is it really not an option to cover it with tape for a few hours when I’m at school and then take the tape off overnight and at weekends. There will be a lot more time with the stud than when it is covered. Or what about getting a tiny clear retainer put in by a professional? Surely it will be okay if it’s just got tape on it and I will clean it lots. Or could I lowkey just get it pierced for the summer then leave it to close?