Work Text:
I look in the mirror sometimes and wonder how life would be if my dad never died. If my family wasn't religious and homophobic. If my dog never lost his leg. If nobody i loved died.
What would it be like? Would I be happier? Would I still be with my lover? Would I still be a faggot? Would I still be Hellenistic? Would I still love the things I love?
I lay in bed at the moment, wondering if life is just a dream or a hoax, if I'm actually dead. I wish so sometimes.
I'm scared to tell my family how I feel. I feel they'll invalidate how I feel. They'll question what they ever did wrong for me to want to die.
Then I remember some people love me. Very few people, but still people. My lover, my friends, my grandma, my dog, my cats, my plushies. The people I find the least traumatizing.
I contemplate if life is important alot. If I died, how everyone would react. If I stopped talking one day. If I stopped loving. I'm scared. Is my life all built on a lie? Am I just a fake?