Confession

My heart is beating and I am shaking as I write this. It would probably be worse if I knew that I couldn’t just use the backspace or just delete this file. If this was a written journal where my words were written in ink, I would definitely be worse off because of what I have to say. Words can not begin to describe the terror and other assortment of feelings that I am experiencing right now. So to just put it out there right now: I’m gay.

Good God, as I look at what I just typed, I’m about to cry. I can’t stop looking back at it and just wipe it away. It looks like bullet, ready to be capped into my skull.

I’ve always known in some degree or another for as long as I can remember. And it scared the hell out of me to even think about telling my family. I’ve been raised with the belief that homosexuals were filthy, immoral, sick, sinful, and damned. So I stuffed what I was feeling deep down and tried to act as I should. As a result, I never made any friends of such a significant closeness. In my entire life, I’ve only had three. Brandon, who was there before my sexual awareness. Erin and Sara.

I fell in love with Erin and Sara and I knew that I was at least bisexual and hoped that it would be enough. I thanked God that I could fall in love with women and I could just ignore this evil side of self. But it’s no longer enough. I tried going out with Erin during my senior year of high school and it was no longer the same. We had grown into different people and as much as I wanted the Erin I knew from junior high, she had experiences and expectations that I knew I couldn’t live up to. And Sara, my God, unrequited love sucks ass. I love her as any straight man could-- both mentally, spiritually, and physically. But she doesn’t feel even an attraction to me, for when I told her my feelings for her, she brushed it off. I don’t think I’ve gotten over that.

This past year, I had more contact with open homosexuals. And I saw into their world, how happy they were and even at peace with themselves. I could also feel their pain as they tried to live that way in a society that was hurtful to them. I’ve been bitter. Bitter at the heterosexuals and the homosexuals because they were happy and I wasn’t.

My latest contemplation for suicide was yesterday. Today I took out my frustrations by punching the bed and pillows until my muscles were shaking. It is eating me up inside. I can feel myself dying a little at a time and I don’t know how much more I can take this.

I called Sara an hour ago. There is a sheet of paper taped to the wall in front of me with the number 26. In my dreams, I always knew that I would die at 26. I had always thought that it meant age 26 until I noticed that Saturday fell on the 26th. That is the day I will die. If Sara is the friend that I know and love, I will tell her my secret. She told me, years ago, that if Kevin [a mutual friend from high school] was gay, that she would still be friends with him. I need her to do that for me.

As I end this, I realize that I will be leaving this on the desktop, free for my family to read. It had been my intention that if I should ever die, then they would be able to read my journal. I love them and I couldn’t bare the thought that I would cause them grief. What I will eventually have to say to them may destroy this family. I would so much like to believe Chad and Moose that this would turn out okay but I’m not ready to make that leap. I believe that it is a very real possibility that I will be cut off from this family. If that happens, I’m not sure I have anyone in my corner… except maybe Sara.

God help me.