In that Moment on that Day: Where it all Began

Wed, 10/15/2014 - 02:14 -- sdill18


Do you know what it’s like to be left out of the crowd?

Do you know what it’s like to have no friends?

Do you know what it’s like to feel like you are your own best friend?

Do you know what it’s like to have never been given a chance?

Yeah, me too.

If you could read my mind,

you could probably see more of me then I see myself.

Have you ever thought to yourself,

what would this world be like if you were never in it;

or even worse,

if you were never born?

Yeah, I felt that way all the time.

All those questions and scenarios filled my head daily,

pouncing around my head like a bouncing ball set off in a kid’s playpen.

Until one day, I was forced. I was forced to come clean.

I was forced to tell a world full of hypocritical,



and conservative-minded people,

who I was, what I became, how I lived.

That day, that moment, everything just stood still.

Everything stood still like a frozen raindrop on a window during the coldest day of the year.

That day, that moment, I broke down completely.

No one knew why.

Why rivers of salty water flowed from the bowls of my desecrated mantled face every second,

every minute,

every hour of the day.

Why my eyes seemed to be blood-shot red from the pain I felt.

That day, that moment, it all began.

At first, everything about me seemed “normal,”

but inside I felt like cookies being baked in an oven.

A burning, scorching, intense fire-like feeling began to increase inside me,

ready for me to explode.

It felt as if my body were covered in hot lava.

I felt dead with no emotion.

As I stepped foot through the doors of the prison-like school, I began to shiver.

I began to shiver from the all the whispers and eyes walking on my face and body,

as I made my way to my class;

even the walls whispered and laughed as I walked by.

Knock! Knock! Knock!

I peeped through the window of the door to see if anyone heard my knock, but no one came.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

I knocked on the door three more times.

They finally heard me.

For once, someone heard me, someone knew I was there.

The scringing of the loose bolts sounded as an ex-best friend opened the door to let me in.

The ghostly look on their faces as walked in,

piercing their darted eyes through my skin as if it would kill me.

I took my seat.

Ring, ring, ring, the bell sounded off for break.

I knew I could not face what was about to come, so I just sat there.

One minute, two minutes, ten minutes passed, the second class session started.

Then, she spoke, she wondered, she knew what I was feeling, she asked.

The one person I thought I could trust,

I could count on;

a person I knew I could tell anything to, because they were my true friend,

but she was the cause.

The cause of my crying,

the cause of my life,

the cause of everyone looking down on me because I chose to live an unaccepted life.

A life filled with happiness.

A life no one knew I lived, but me.

A life I told no one, but her.

A life that was planned for me and her to share,

but things went horribly wrong;

she told.

She told the world;

she let in others that were not supposed to know.

She let in weasels, monks, vandals, barbarians; she let in the worse.

She told a secret that society just could not handle.

She broke a piece off inside of me that not even the devil himself take from me.

It was as if she took a part of my soul.

She let the one secret that made me happy, known;

the one secret I kept for many years.

The one secret I knew would eventually set me free, but in my own time.

A secret that I would be happy to tell when I knew it was the right moment.

A secret that would make not only my friends, my family, and society look at me different,

but most importantly God.

The one person I could not hide from.

The one person that always knew the real me and my secret,

but was never spoken aloud to Him.

The secret of me being gay.

Me liking the same sex.

Me having feelings for a girl I knew I loved.

Engaging in something that I knew was wrong.

That day, that moment, everything broke free.

The taunting,

the laughing,

the disgusted looks upon their faces,

the horrible internet comments,

the hatred I still feel and hear ‘til this day.

In those moments I knew I couldn’t make it,

until I realized she had done something I could not do for myself;

she set me free.

Free of hiding the real me behind this awful shallow mask.

Free of liking who I am, and what I now represented.

Free of being myself around my friends.

Free of everything.

That day, that moment, that moment, we talked, we cried, we hugged, we laughed.

That day, that moment, I became the person that I am today.



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