We have never been the perfect family. There have always been some kinds of issues, either with the world outside or inside the family, mainly due to stress. I wasn't very old when I first figured that my family wasn't quite like the other. When I were younger my father, Arthur, always came around to pick up my brother Matthew and myself at the kindergarten. They knew my father well, he was very kind to people, nice and helpful. Sure, he could be really grumpy at times, but they still loved him and they knew he was doing his best to make the family work.
My papa, Francis, always waited at home... I clearly remember getting home from kindergarten and he would greet us with a warm hug and kisses. Of course we grew tired of this when we got older, or so we told them, I think they knew we really loved it. Liked that someone would love us when others couldn't.
Father was a busy man, he always stayed up late and never really got enough sleep. Because of this he would end up yelling at us, papa tried to calm him down. Father always stopped yelling at us when this happened, and began yelling at papa instead. He was used to it, we got used to it as well.
Papa was a sweet man; he loved to bake and loved to talk to people. He really did have a special way to talk to others; when we were younger we never understood what he was doing. But when we got older you slowly realized he had been flirting with others. Father knew this, didn't care because he knew Francis loved him and would never love anyone else.
As you might have guessed, my parents are gay, and they have –of all people I know- had so many problems, that i'm surprised they're still together.
They met at high school, had the same classes and just ended up talking. Or it was papa who started talking to father and just never let him be. Soon both of them realized they were in love. I have always been told love is a good thing, it's scary, but it's worth this feeling. Father and papa had heard this too, and they began to love each other in the school halls, holding hands and they kissed when they said goodbye to each other. In the beginning it was a secret, they were afraid of how people would react, and when they couldn't help showing it to their friends, they would probably have wished they never did. In the beginning people just called them names, gay, and faggot. This didn't stop them though; it scared them but never stopped their love toward each other. Then people began to, yes they did, to beat them up. They thought it was okay because they weren't real human beings. They had sinned. Neither Arthur, nor Francis' parents were okay with the idea of their boy loving another boy, but they, sort of, accepted it.
They stopped showing love to each other in public of fear for being beaten. This went on for some years, Arthur being called names, Francis left alone by his so-called "friends".
Things didn't become easier when they got older. However their love grew, and in the end they wanted to marry each other. Sadly, they weren't allowed to, since it would be against god's will, so they married in secret without a priest.
After two years, they wanted kids. They searched everywhere for a place where they could adopt a child, and of course many places wouldn't allow them since they were gay, other places would but the people there were so mean and cruel to them. Yet after months of searching and trying to find the right place, they finally adopted my brother and myself. Our lives became perfect, someone had adopted us, someone who would love us and care for us. We didn't care that our parents were men, the only thing that we cared about was whatever or not they loved us, and they did. As little kids we never had problems, but when we started in school and the others figured out we had gay parents, we were bullied. I often got beaten too, told them they could beat me instead of my brother, so the other kids did.
We tried everything we could to stay strong and fight on. School was never easy for either of us, our parents hated when we went to school, and my brother and I feared it.
Our family isn't perfect; there have been yelling, sad faces, and crying and days when you wished you didn't exist. But, those days still can't overcome the good days. A simple walk through the park, papa buying an ice cream for all of us, father just looking so angry that we know he loves it, these days make everything worth it. We may have cried, but for every tear, there has been another laughter to make up for it. Arthur and Francis never left each other's side, not even when times were hardest; they stayed strong, stayed together. That has inspired me more than anything, if they didn't give up. I won't give up either.
