Please don't make me tell you.
I know the world I live in. Why don't you know yours?
Please don't ask me.
Please don't tell me.
I'm just the gay son. I got out, and it was easy to do it. Being gay is the easiest out of a family that there is.
So please, please, please, don't ask.
I'll have to tell.
I'll have to say that I'm against gay marriages not because I'm gay, but because I'm against marriage.
Because I'll say it passionately, and with regret, you'll know I feel pity because you cannot comprehend how I could ever feel an emotion like that toward the family.
And then it will happen. You can't help it. You just can't.
You'll get that shocked look, that frightened look. That look of naked anger.
You know the one. The one that says, "How dare anyone as low as a homo presume to judge the family".
And that's when I've stopped being your son.
Or even simply a child of divorce.
I'm just a faggot.
That's when I have to walk away.
So please don't make me tell you about your crumbling nuclear families.
Please don't ask me about the family I've chosen.
Just ... don't.