text: “Do you ever just sort of forget you exist?” She looked up, pausing in the middle of her page. “Hmm?” Her girlfriend shifted, careful not to move too much. “Forget you exist. Like, as a person. With... choices, and influence and whatever.” There was a crick in her back. She had been using her girlfriend’s stomach as a pillow, and the movement had caused her body to realize that lying on the floor, however carpeted, was uncomfortable. “Not... really. Why? Do you?” “Eh. Sometimes.” Her girlfriend’s body rose and fell heavily beneath her head, accompanied by a puff of breath. “Just... like, you know. Time has no meaning. You’re tired, you can’t bring yourself to do much of anything, even text your friends, and then suddenly two weeks have passed and you’ve done absolutely nothing.” “Oh.” She considered that, but nothing she could remember experiencing seemed close enough. “I mean, I guess I’ve gotten into funks before, but that’s not what you’re talking about, is it?” “Well, sort of,” her girlfriend mused. “It’s like an extended, deep funk, but coupled with passively questioning your identity, validity, and existence. It kinda sucks.” “Yeah, sounds like it.” She glanced at the page number of her book before closing it and placing it off to the side. “Does it happen often, or...?” “A little.” Her girlfriend’s hand, which had been unconsciously massaging her shoulder, retracted. “It was worse at home.” Her heart sank. She rolled onto her side. Her cheek sank into the soft fabric of her girlfriend’s oversized hoodie. “That makes sense.” “Mmhm.” Her girlfriend stared up at the ceiling. “Because there, I’m not as sure of myself. I didn’t know if I wanted to do something or if my parents wanted me to. For as long as I can remember, it all just felt so wrong, and it was only after I got out of high school and away from home that I started actually looking at myself and wondering, ‘Who am I’?” Her girlfriend fidgeted, tugging her skirt down shakily. “And now that I know, what do I do? I don’t feel comfortable at home anymore. I don’t want to spend any time with them, and I don’t trust them, because I can’t! I can’t rely on them. It’d be bad enough if I, as their daughter, just told them I was gay, but I’d also have to tell th-” “I know! I know,” she interrupted before her girlfriend could get too upset. It would be justified, of course, but sue her. “It’s not fair. They suck. I’m sorry. But it’s not your fault.” Her girlfriend grimaced. “Yeah. I know, I guess.” “Seriously.” She boosted herself up onto her palms, sitting up to look her girlfriend in the face. “Anyone who doesn’t appreciate you for who you are doesn’t deserve to know you.” “Hm.” Her girlfriend didn’t react. She barely looked her in the eyes. “If you say so.” “You don’t believe me?” “Why would I? I’m not smart. I’m not that fun to hang around. I’m not even-” “Okay, no.” She cut her girlfriend off again and turned over to lay down next to and on top of her, draping an arm over her shoulders. Their cheeks rubbed against each other. Her mouth hovered above her girlfriend’s ear. “You are. You are every one of those things, and if anyone tells you otherwise, they’re full of shit.” She waited. Her girlfriend didn’t answer. “Okay?” “...Okay.” She turned her head and pressed a kiss onto her girlfriend’s cheek. “Good girl.” Her girlfriend squeaked. She suppressed a smile. “I love you.” Her girlfriend’s arm wrapped around her, pulling them closer together. “I love you, too.