Changes in an Hour
I shivered, not from the cold, but from what I planned to do in but a few minutes time. I had been planning this for months; I had prayed about it, I had thought deeply about it, I had read up on the subject, and I had asked my friends about it. Most of my friends had accepted it; one
or two had tried preaching at me and a few had told me about how they already knew. I hoped my parents fell into the latter group; it would make this far easier.
My laptop, sitting open on my desk, pinged, drawing me from my thoughts. Colby had sent me a message on the IRC. “You there?” he inquired. I reached to answer, nudging the book on the brain as I did so, knocking it off of its fragile seat above my alarm clock and dislodging my egg project for Sociology. It tumbled to the ground, gaining a slight widening in the crack that had appeared there this very morning; it didn’t matter anymore.
“Yes,” I replied. I continued to sit staring into the screen of my laptop; maybe I could stay up here a little longer, put off the inevitable for a little longer. “I think I am going to tell them.” This was perfect for stalling; he would either spend time reassuring me or telling me about all that could happen.
“Are you sure?” he replied. He had done the same exact thing a few years ago and I
think he regretted it, possibly deeply.
“Not really,” I told him “but I want them to know, I am tired of sneaking around in the dark. I think part of the stress causing my hypertension is originating here.”
“It probably is, but this may end up with you in a more stressful situation.” Shit. I hadn’t
thought about that. “If you need a place to stay when this is over…”
“Thanks, I’ll remember that,” I replied, not sure exactly what he could offer in that area;
he had enough problems in his family without adding an extra person into the mix.
“I guess I will see you in a few hours. Give my teachers my regards; ask Mr. Cook if a mortician’s note will excuse me from his class will you? Come visit me in the morgue? I am signing off now.”
“LOLOLOL, I will give him the note personally, “he replied. I closed the IRC box; no record existed of the conversation except for the one he possibly still had open on his computer. I opened up my contingency document. It had specifics in case I was unable to go through with
this completely. I had written this document in case I died or ended up in a situation which may cause terrible things to happen. It described me; every single thing about me that my parents might be unable to accept was listed in this document. I set up an email to send itself with the document attached in a few days in the event that I was unable to come back. The email would send itself to Patrick, my best friend since the second grade, a few family members, and a few friends I had never been able to tell. I hoped to be able to come back to this email and tell it not to send; I wanted to tell the world in a more personal manner, preferably face to face. I got up from my chair and packed a bag full of clothing. I prepared my laptop for quick removal if it became necessary. I desperately hoped it wouldn’t be necessary.
I was shaking pretty badly; I didn’t know if I could go through with it. I stuck my bag by my door and walked down the hall towards my brothers’ rooms. I looked in at Trevor, sleeping peacefully. I loved both of my siblings, but I had watched Trevor grow up; I felt a special protective bond towards him. My mentality towards him had always been the same: if anything were to happen to him, the perpetrator of the event would not survive him long, nor would I. He could be annoying sometimes, but I loved him all the same.
I walked in and perched on the edge of his bed; I lay my hand on his cheek and brushed my lips against his forehead. He rolled slightly towards me, probably more because of the dip in
his bed due me sitting on it more than any subconscious gesture indicating the same reciprocated love. I brushed a lock of his hair back from his face and got up. I walked out, shutting his door behind me.
Mike lay awake playing something on his IPod Touch in the room across the hall. I had always felt love for him as well, but we were much closer in age; this love was very much a brotherly love type of deal. For this, he would hate me for a few years; but I hoped that one day his mind would open up and he would understand that difference is rarely a bad thing. I pulled my head out of his room before he noticed me and began to try to engage in conversation with me.
I walked back down towards the steps. As I moved closer towards the stairs, I drew in on myself. As I set foot on the top step I remembered my father chastising Trevor three days prior.
“Are you a boy or a girl?” he had yelled. My brother had walked from the shower to his room wearing his towel like he had seen mom wear hers; wrapped around his whole body instead of at his waist. Trevor had meekly shuffled his towel down towards the more “acceptable” level near his waist.
I took another step.
My father and I were joking in the car; he had just told a joke about two gay men watching a dog lick himself. He laughed for a few minutes while I sat there quietly. He looked at me and smiled again.
“You’ll get it when you’re older,” he told me. I understood it completely though. “When I was a deputy sheriff and watching the county prison, we used to get gay men all the time. We told them that if they touched us, we would shoot them. We told them that if they moved towards us, we would shoot them. We told them that if they looked at us funny, we would shoot them. It was fun.” He stopped as he became unable to talk as he laughed some more.
I took another step.
I sat in Confirmation class; Sam sat in the seat to my right, Patrick sat in my seat to my left. Pastor asked us if we had any questions about sex. I raised my hand.
“Why does the church hate gays, lesbians, bisexuals, and transgendered?” I asked with a quiver in my voice as I looked around and noticed people becoming offended that I dare ask such a question. Sam chuckled under his breath.
“Faggot” he muttered.
“The Bible states it is wrong,” said Pastor as he leveled his gaze on me, the man was one of those people who gave off an air of omniscience. I knew he had heard Sam, but he did nothing to correct him.
“But love is love, no matter where it is directed; wouldn’t the church get behind something like that? Don’t they want to spread love AND God’s word?” I asked in reply to his simple answer. I think he expected me to leave it at that, but he opened his bible and turned to a page in Leviticus. Even Patrick looked at me with a hint of disproval in his eyes.
I took another step.
“Mom, when she came out of the closet to me, she asked me not to tell anyone. I ask that you do the same.” Mom had read my email and found out that someone had come out of the closet to me. “She wrote it in eight-bit! That’s a binary code that even I had to do research to learn; she was telling me in such a way that her parents couldn’t do exactly what you just did!”
“She is too young to be making such a decision. Besides, homosexuality is wrong,” she
told me in a cold manner.
“She is eighteen, it is entirely her decision. If you tell her parents, they will kick her out;
they might even hurt her.”
“They should have just as much of a say in what she does. What she is doing is a terrible thing!”
I took another step.
We were standing outside of the Stone Goddess, a store dedicated to selling really cool rocks and minerals. Two girls stood outside kissing each other; they obviously loved each other very much. My father turned us around and piled us back into the car. As we drove away, he told us why. “We left because what those two girls were doing is a sin; it was terribly wrong and you boys are too young to deal with such stuff.”
I took another step.
I was sitting in my second grade classroom. My teacher asked us to divide into two groups: one with boys and one with girls. I stood up and, without thinking, walked to the left side, where all the girls stood. Some of them giggled. I looked up to see every single one of the boys laughing at me from the other side of the room; embarrassed, I crossed the gap in between the two groups.
I took another step. I could lose my job; I probably would. They weren’t required to accept everybody; they didn’t have to let me keep my job. I had worked there for three years; it was decent money and a fun job.
I took another step.
When the Boy Scouts found out, I would be stripped of my position. I loved working with the Boy Scout troop. I was an assistant scoutmaster, having turned eighteen a few months prior. I had been with that troop since the first grade; being forced to leave would hurt more than a little.
I took another step.
I told myself what I was doing was for the best. I sat on the stair I had just left. I was a few steps from the bottom of the staircase. I sat for a few minutes, gathering my strength. My cat walked up and I sat for a few seconds scratching his head. I touched my forehead to his and he pushed his against mine. He walked up a few steps and plopped down behind my back, almost as if he was urging me to get up and carry on.
I got up, scratched his head, and walked down the remaining stairs. Mom was sitting on the computer, playing her Facebook farming game. She had headphones in her ears; she was listening to a vampire novel. She hated being interrupted when she listened to her novels.
My courage waivered, they might be willing to understand if I told them I was just gay, but they would never understand this; they would view this on a whole other level of abomination. They would kick me out; I would never see my family again. I would never watch Trevor accomplish all that he was destined to accomplish. I wanted to tell her so much. I wanted my parents to know and still love me. I wanted to scream it to the world. I needed acceptance from the two people who probably wouldn’t give it.
I had stood there too long. My mom looked up and paused her novel as she took off her headphones. “What do you want?” she asked, obviously annoyed that I had interrupted her novel.
“I just wanted to tell you good night.” I lied.
“Good night,” she replied; she must have thought something was up. I hadn’t come down simply to tell her good night in a few years. I had failed.
A Note from the Author:
I won’t say that it gets better; I don’t know this myself yet and it doesn’t always get better, that’s not how the world works. Just be yourself; if you wall yourself inside your mind by thinking the world will deny you, then you will deny yourself. If the people around you won’t accept you when you have accepted yourself then they aren’t worth it. A human life is a human life and remains as such regardless of race, sexual orientation, gender identity, biological gender, deformity, religious beliefs, or any other views. Regardless of anything, a human being is a human being. You are a human being; don’t allow others to treat you as if you are not. It does not matter who someone is, treating another person as inhuman is a terrible thing. Tell someone; find someone you trust, and tell them; most likely they will get you to help
