Proudly Out
FP: So, why are you out here? Where's your family?
Kyle: My family? (Looks at wristwatch) They're probably eating dinner right about now.
FP: And why are you out here instead of with them?
Kyle: Because, they kicked me out.
FP: Why?
Kyle: Because I'm gay...my parents told me that I was disgusting; that they didn't want me anymore.
FP: Just because you're gay?
Kyle: Yeah...they said I shamed the family, or something of that sort...which is funny, I guess, I mean, I wonder how proud they'd be knowing that them kicking me out has put me where I am now. I doubt I could do much to make them proud out here, on the streets, I mean, the most I could do make money out here is either deal drugs or become a whore...I wonder how much pride they could possibly have in that. It's stupid, really, because I had my life set; I was going to college; I was going to get an education and have a the life that comes with it. If I had gotten all of that, I could've made them proud...I would've made them proud! I would've worked hard to make up for it...to make up for me being gay (cries).
FP: (Puts his arm around Kyle) They're wrong you know, you're not disgusting, not at all.
Kyle: (Wipes his eyes) Thanks, I know.
FP: I know you know, but, sometimes, it helps to hear it.
Kyle: It's unfair, FP, I could've made them proud...if they had only given me the chance, I would've been able to make them proud despite me being gay.
FP: I'm proud of you Kyle.
Kyle: Why? You hardly know me.
FP: Because, you didn't live a lie; you didn't do anything despite you being gay. I'm proud of you because you realized that it couldn't have been your life, if it was despite any part of you. Because you're gay, Kyle, I am proud.
"Hold on to the light that guides you; hold on to the air that cools you; hold on; hold on to me."
Sadly In
Lying alone he cries, as he always has. He keeps suicide at bay by reminding himself that he found a reason to live the first time he tried, though the exact nature of the reason escapes him now. If he couldn't do it then he can't do it now, or at least as long as he tell himself that he won't have to find out for sure.
It's interesting how shame bleeds, staining all that are around it. Shame felt by an unloving mother so quickly absorbed by a guilt ridden son. A son who at first absorbed his mothers shame is then forced to feel shame for having disappointed his friends and the gay community for not standing up for himself and for the community.
Waking, still alone, he hears his mother moving about, and fears contact. There is none.
Isolated from a loving but silent brother, he sleeps away the day, and spends the night in drunken solitude. Starved for three days, he still can't find hunger, it left with his mothers love.
Surviving the solitude he looks forward to college, and the final release it will bring, so close and yet so impossibly far. Part of him knows his path, but the rest continues to ignore it. One week's done, then two. Three comes, but he can't quite make it through. He remembers the reason for living, his friends. He misses them. He is obsessed with the absolute ending that his mother placed on his social life.
He is dead. But is not certain who killed him, his mother or himself.
The first story was not written by me but by a new friend who helped console me when I came out to my homophobic mother last night. A great deal of this story is taken word for word from our conversation, though he took some liberties with the story. He predicted the future, and unfortunately his predictions may soon come true. My mother did not actually kick me out so much as gave me a choice: go back in to the closet and spend the rest of my life living with her in solitude, a prisoner in my own home, or leave forever, and receive no aid in funding my college education (which I will be starting this fall). While the economically sound option of staying home and have my education paid for is extremely tempting, the unavoidable truth of the situation is as follows: I would not be able to live with myself, and assuming I did not kill myself, a much larger assumption than I'd like it to be, I certainly would allow my depression to damage my scholastic success. And so I am now faced with the most frightening choice of life, the choice to leave my family and go to an uncertain future.
I have been offered a place to stay, so I will not hit the streets immediately, though I still fear I may end up homeless sooner or later. Once gone I suppose I would devote all my energy to finding a full time job and loans to pay for college, though I doubt that it would be possible for me to make it this year, perhaps I could have an education at some point. On that note I'd like to thank ac_hyper who's WU How to send a child to college has given me a great deal of confidence and guidance. Above all I'd like to thank FP for his incredible support and story.
Update: One week after leaving I got in contact with my mother who changed her mind about paying for college, and two weeks after I moved back home. It may not be the most loving home in the world but, at least I get to go to college, and have a chance at repairing my relationship with my mother.
I realize this is very GTKY but I felt the stories needed explanation. The original dialogue appeared at http://www.livejournal.com/users/gamerider/ on June 30th 2003, and the song lyrics come from Hold On by The Starting Line