Somewhere To Write

Posted by Anonymous on 2015/01/28 under Uncategorized

I really have no idea what i am doing right and wrong. i feel as though those lines were blurred so long ago in the dust that not even the finger prints that brushed them away remain. I have always tried to be a good brother, son, boyfriend, person, and whatever sort of being i am. But every day, the feeling that i can do no right only increases. Do you want to know? Do you really want to f***ing know? cause i’ll f***ing tell you all about it. Well, not all about it because i want to keep some unity and integrity between my fingers typing and my heart that is beating. It started out a couple months ago i guess. My sister never liked my boyfriend. She always believed (and was right in this belief) that he was a deadbeat psychotic who was manipulating me from the minute we started dating to the days after i broke up with him. Although, at the time i was being told this i hated her. I hated everything about her, from her new found “hippy love philosophy” to her orotund voice professing everything she knew to be true, right and wrong. She is an atheist, but i swear to God the way she talks, you’d think she was a saint. She knows everything and knows every corner of how the world works. She is as proud and stubborn and vain and insane. I love her, but at that moment, i hated her more than sin. “Your relationship is toxic. it makes me sick to look at. The way you guys are with eachother,” she would preach to me while taking a drag from a blunt. “I don’t understand why you guys are still together, you know Curtis is right, you guys are way past your expiration date.” I sat in anger, waiting for her to shut the f*** up so i could experience the reprieve of silence. “yeah, yeah, i know. I know.” i’d always reply.
What it is i knew, im not sure.
However, a week later that redundant relationship ended and i was all the better for it. I can still hear the rhythms of her condescension rattling around in my mind. The best part was, 3 weeks before I aborted my love, she had called me on the phone with a new proclamation. “I’M A LESBIAN!!!!” she was so happy with her new discovery. She had obviously thought this through for years and years and manifested it in some weird crush for her friends. “So, did you make out with someone at a party?” I asked with strained patience as she’d interrupted a movie i was watching.” No, i didn’t. But you don’t need to with these things, you just know ya know?” I didn’t know. I didn’t understand her at all. Yes, i am gay. but that doesn’t mean i’m going to understand every single persons sexual experience. That’s like expecting van gogh to completely understand tchaikovsky. Yes, they are both artists essentially, but what lies between is far greater a distance than the fact of them being artists. I spent year after year, month after month, and day after day harvesting the knowledge that i was gay. and i was terrified.

until next time.

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