Trigger Warnings: Suicidal thoughts, Self harm mentions, Homophobia

Image above is Maria

Dear Diary,                                                                                                                  November 23rd 2019

There's this girl.

 She's in my Theatre classes and her name is Maria. She's the only one there who's nice to me, really. I consider us as friends. She's like a distraction for me. A distraction from home, school, life in general. 

I like her, a lot. But if my parents ever find this, I am f*cking dead. It's weird that the only one I can be freely gay to in this pathetic excuse for a home is a book written by a thirteen year old girl. And they wonder why I want to die. 

Lame-ass homophobes. F*ck em.

It's gotten to the point where I cry over clean arms, or people being happy. I know I should be happy for them, but I feel jealous and impulsive. I want to burn something. 

Anything. Whenever I see a piece of paper, I see it in flames. 

Gosh, I'm scared of myself. I need help. Actually, forget help. I need to die. 

But forget the depressing sh*t, at least I've got Maria. Maria and her long, dark hair (dyed dark purple once I should add, she looked hotter than ever). Her hazel warm eyes. And she's tall. Our height difference is quite cute.

I haven't even begun on her personality. Oh damn, her personality. Well, for starters, she's smart. Top set for everything. She's fit. As gay as I am, that is not what I meant. She's athletic, is what I wanted to say. She's the opposite of me, almost. She prefers tea to coffee, she's good at art, she likes newer music. Actually into murder mysteries. 

Yes, I have checked. She's bi, I might have a chance.

Okay, now I'm laughing at myself. Me, July Johnson. 

Have a chance with the hottest, truest girl I've met. Yeah, okay. 

I've vented all I've wanted for now. So I'll write here next time I gay panic or want to commit arson. 

- JJ