No words in the world will begin to discribe how much this girl means to me. She understands my ranting and raving when I don't even understand myself. She listens to me and offers me advice when I'm crying so hard I can't even think straight. I don't know where to begin, so I'll just start somewhere.
Her name is Claire Noelle and she lives in St. Louis. She's fifteen, she's a beautiful person and I lobe her. That's not a typo, anytime you see the word "lobe" you know that I am talking about the one and only Claire. All my rambling will never explain our relationship together.
We are not lesbians. I repeat, we are not lesbians. Just really great 'net friends. We write back and forth, we call each other when we can, and I make little pages for her on my website.
She's really insane and emotional. We both hate goth stereotypes. Oh yes, we are just so goth. We run around shouting things like, "Oh my goth!" and "Damn bi!" and we call boys bois and we always say bi bi to each other, and *gag*. No, we don't do any of that. We really dislike it. The one that she likes though is the whole hand staple forehead thing. I don't like it much, but it's better than if we went around typing stuff along the lines of, "Lober, I just met the greatest goth boi in the world."
The question that we beg to be answered is why do we like pretty boys. Boys, not bois. It's absolutely insane, we like the makeup, we like the hair, we like them skinny and pale. We like our "goth" boys. We like them bangasuckafuckalicious, hold the stereotypes puh-lease! |
