It’s weird because I’m not used to this feeling.
This feeling of absolute happiness and bliss.
Like if the rest of the world just slowly began to dissolve, leaving just me and August I wouldn’t notice.
Thats why I feel weird, but not why I feel bad.
Where I live is considered a strait, white, community. Everyone is “perfect”. The exact mold all the adults want to use to shape us.
Around here different is bad, and I’m different.
Instead of spending the weekends down on our school football field with my brother, ogling at the cheerleaders in their skimpy tops and too-short skirts I’m at home, playing video games with the boys who make me feel the way I’m always told love feels like.
It’s a scary thing really, to be caught doing some feminine activity only for Dave to laugh and pat my head, calling me names like ‘gay’, ‘whimpy’, or ‘gross’.
But what’s wrong with me? I still feel the same. So why do people flash me odd looks when I stare just a second to long at other boys on the beach, or watch the players instead of their pompom squad?387Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡhgxYBRSYyS
I don’t know.
If being... gay... is so wrong then why does it feel so right?
Why do I cringe whenever mom tells me, “Clint, one day your gonna find a woman as crazy and beautiful as you.”
Will anyone ever accept me?387Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡIvybJbAeaC
Can I ever accept myself?
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