I cling to the sound of your words as the
ink in my journal clings to the pages. Everything about you is perfect, my wolf,
and yet so imperfect are we, so against what they say we should be. It's the
fact we're the same that drives this connection, yet that's the same reason
they hate us. I know it's the reason they sometimes lash out against me.

I wish it wasn't so hard to be with you. I wish there weren't so many hurdles
to climb. Your beautiful eyes sparkle when you laugh, tail wagging. I hate
seeing you sad with your ears down, tail drooping. It tears at me what they do
to you, the abuse they give you because you are like me. It hurts that I'm the
cause. I don't understand why they care.

It's not like we're taking up much space in
this world. It feels like there are so few like us, and yet I know there are others,
others hiding, others still lurking in the dark. I wish they'd come forward so
we could all stand together. I know some of them will never be as brave as us,
but together we could push back. You tell me, “It's okay, they can stay in the shadows,"
but it doesn't feel right to be this alone. We need allies to stand with us,
yet there are none here in this town I trust beyond you with knowing the true
depth of our love.

In the rain yesterday, out behind the
library, I held you as you cried against me, sobbing. We huddled in the service
doorway, the rain falling inches from our muzzles as you told me you loved me,
told me that your parents were threatening to hurt you if we kept seeing each
other. Back in that little shelter away from the storm, I did everything I
could to comfort you. We didn't say it was time to go, but we both knew it was.
I only needed to ask if you wanted to get the tickets; your soft, sad nod as
you wiped your eyes told me you were ready.

People shouldn't care about who you are
inside, who you love. Sadly, far too many of them do, and as I'm standing here
next to you today, clutching a bus ticket to somewhere safer, somewhere far
away from this cursed place, I worry about the future for us. I worry how we'll
find shelter the next time it rains. I don't want to run, but we need to be
safe. We are barely adults and already we need to build a whole new life for
ourselves in a new town, the safety of home lost to us. I guess we should feel
lucky we made it to this point, that we managed to get far enough along that we
could walk out of this hell together before it all came crashing down upon our
ears.

“Are you ready?" I ask you, as the bus pulls
up and the door opens.

“As ready as I can ever be," you whisper, as
we walk forward, and find seats on the bus. I want to cry about the injustice,
I want to scream about the pain they've given me, but I'm beyond that. I just
want to find shelter somewhere I belong. I just want to love you in peace.

As your tail settles against the seat, and
you sigh with your eyes closed, I reach for your hand and take it, feeling your
fingers grip mine the way you would hold onto a lifeline. I wish we weren't the
only couple who had to run for being the same, but the hate is too great to stay.

I wish my parents still told me they loved me,
but they only shake their heads at me now and act disappointed. Instead of
seeing us as people, as two young lovers seeking to build a life together, our
love is met far too often with scorn and hate. We are the same, yet for some,
that is too different from themselves. Too other to belong.

As the bus pulls away, I want to look back,
I want to look at my former home, but I can only cry silently, tears staining my
face. Through misty eyes, I can see you do the same.