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January 16 - January 20, 2023
Like the way you can memorize someone’s gestures but never know their thoughts. And the feeling that people are like houses with vast rooms and tiny windows.
He talked about the ocean between people. And how the whole point of everything is to find a shore worth swimming to.
It’s strange, because in reality, I’m not the leading guy. Maybe I’m the best friend.
Leah once said that she’d rather have people call her fat directly than have to sit there and listen to them talking shit about some other girl’s weight. I actually think I agree with that. Nothing is worse than the secret humiliation of being insulted by proxy.
Wonder Woman and a gay dementor. It doesn’t bode well for the survival of the species.
But I’m tired of coming out. All I ever do is come out. I try not to change, but I keep changing, in all these tiny ways. I get a girlfriend. I have a beer. And every freaking time, I have to reintroduce myself to the universe all over again.
Being secure in your masculinity isn’t the same as being straight.
I have to admit I like to imagine you as a kid fantasizing about junk food. I also like to imagine you now fantasizing about sex. I can’t believe I just wrote that. I can’t believe I’m hitting send. —Blue
Do you ever have those random nights where your brain won’t shut off, even though your body feels like five hundred pounds of exhausted?
It shouldn’t bother me when Nick and Leah hang out without me. It just feels like I’m on the outside somehow. Not all the time. Just sometimes. But yeah. I feel irrelevant. I hate that.
As a side note, don’t you think everyone should have to come out? Why is straight the default? Everyone should have to declare one way or another, and it should be this big awkward thing whether you’re straight, gay, bi, or whatever. I’m just saying.
The Homosexual Agenda? I don’t know. I think it’s more like the Homo Sapiens Agenda. That’s really the point, right?
My dad invented the concept of Simon logic, and I can’t seem to outgrow it. It means wishful thinking supported by flimsy evidence.
I don’t even know. I’m just so sick of straight people who can’t get their shit together.
“Okay, well,” she says quietly. “Just know that those assholes are getting suspended. I’m not even kidding. I will make it my hill to die on.” Abby, Brianna, and I just stare at her. It’s the first time I’ve ever heard a teacher cuss.
The way I feel about him is like a heartbeat—soft and persistent, underlying everything.
P.S. I love the way you smile like you don’t realize you’re doing it. I love your perpetual bed head. I love the way you hold eye contact a moment longer than you need to. And I love your moon-gray eyes. So if you think I’m not attracted to you, Simon, you’re crazy.
White shouldn’t be the default any more than straight should be the default. There shouldn’t even be a default.
“I’m quiet around you,” he says, smiling. I smile back. “I’m one of the cute guys who gets you tongue-tied?” He squeezes the steering wheel. “You’re the cute guy.”
Bram was right: people really are like houses with vast rooms and tiny windows. And maybe it’s a good thing, the way we never stop surprising each other.
“If you didn’t hate all movies, what would you want to see?” “Anything,” I say. “But probably a love story, right? Something Simonish, with a happy ending.” “Why does no one ever believe I’m a cynic?” “Hmm.” He laughs.
“I like no endings,” I say. “I like things that don’t end.”
I’m pretty sure the excitement was 99 percent school supply-related. I love school supplies so much, Jacques. They are so crisp and hopeful, and they always make me feel like THIS is going to be my year.
