As I stared down at the framed photograph in my hands, I keep thinking over and over about how my life could go from whom I was then, and who I am now in such a short period of time. 2 years, 11 months and 29 days, to be exact. The photo I stare at now, with such longing and wonder, shows my father, happier and prouder than ever, holding me on his shoulders as he helps me celebrate my fourteenth birthday.
That day was perfect.
All my friends from school came to my house and joined me in a wonderful celebration. The balloons hanging from the ceilings, my friends showering me with gifts and 'Happy Birthdays.' The cake from my parents saying how much they loved me, even Cooper singing a karaoke duet with me, and telling me how wonderful I was, instead of tearing me down like he usually did.
It was utter perfection, better than anything I could have wanted.
Why was everything so different now?
Of course that was the latest wonderful memory I had, and I know exactly why. The glorious feeling I got from that day helped convince me that everyone around me loved me, and that telling them who I really was wasn't going to change that. The way they all seemed to enjoy my company and cherish me made me think that no matter who I was, they'd embrace it, and thank me for being honest with them.
Boy, was I wrong.
"Mom? Dad? Can I talk to you about something? Something… important?" my voice shook as I forced out the words. This is the most daunting thing anyone would ever have to tell their parents, and I was well aware of what reactions may occur. What I didn't know was if I could handle the
worst.
"Sure sweetheart just make it quick, I've got a phone meeting in about 10 minutes and I still haven't prepared for it!" my mother said with kind, trustworthy eyes. But all I could think about was how she didn't even notice how I was basically falling apart in front of her, and all she cared about was her meeting. I knew she would be fine with this, on some level, but I still wanted her full attention, it was kind of unfair to have someone's mind divided when you were about to tell them something so life-changing and daunting.
"Go ahead son" my father mumbled, barely looking up from computer when he did so. He, I was petrified to tell this to. I knew my father, all he wanted was for his two sons to be the best men they could be, to be brave, courageous and give honour to his family name. Of course Cooper did this without fail. My father was less than hesitant to remind everyoneabout how talented and successful Cooper was with his acting career, even I think he's a sell-out for doing those stupid commercials.
"I-I…" Come on Blaine, you can do this. They're your parents, they love you, and they will support you no matter who you are. Just forget about all the horror stories you've heard, about how kids haven't spoken to their family in years, or how their parents have taken them to therapists because they think something is wrong with them or – Stop it.
"For around a year or so now, I have reached the age where you start to discover who you are. You start to see the world differently and come to realisations about what you want from life, what you were born to be." I was suddenly very aware of the location of all my sweat glands. My heart was thundering if my ears like they were about to start an earthquake. I can do this, I need to do this.
My parents were now looking up at me, with both pride and admiration. They looked so proud of me, like they think I'm going to tell them I want to be a lawyer or something. Man this is going to be a bombshell.
"Even though it has taken me about 6 months' worth of thinking, and re-thinking and seeing myself like that, and picturing it over and over, I have come to the realisation of just who I was born to be." My voice was still shaking and breaking on a couple of words. I wondered if they could tell how painful this was for me to say, or how unbelievably nervous I was. My chest tightened in a very uncomfortable way as I forced out the last few words.
"I-I'm… I'm gay."
I looked down at their stunned, horror-struck faces and knew this wasn't going to go well. The whole room was silent for so much longer than I hoped for. Every millisecond that went by felt like a whole hour. Confusion and anticipation swept over me like a tropical storm, as I waited, and waited to hear their reactions and thoughts. It was almost heart-breaking that they couldn't think of anything to say. The longer I stood there, the more I started to fall apart. I didn't regret telling them, they needed to know, but I was just dreading what they were going to say next.
"Please. Say something." I didn't realise I was crying until I heard my own voice again, barely audible and muffled from the tears.
It was my mother who decided to break the silence.
"Honey, are absolutely positive this is who you are? I mean you're only fourteen; you have plenty of time to change your mind. Just consider all your choices first." I couldn't believe what I was hearing; choices? She thinks this is a choice?
"Yes I'm definitely sure. I thought about this so much. I don't need to do anymore thinking. I knowwho I am. This isn't a choice." If the frustration and hurt I was feeling wasn't evident on my face you would for sure be able to hear it in my voice.
"Well where did we go wrong sweetheart? We did the best we could to raise you right, how did this happen? I don't understand how this could happen; we did the best we could." My mother started ranting hysterically.
Now I was heartbroken.
This couldn't be happening. I was so sure she would understand and now she thinks there is something wrong with me? I need her, more than ever, and this is the one time she decides not to be supportive?
"There is nothing wrong with me! This is who I was born to be, I can't help that, and no one can!" I screamed. The frustration started to build and build inside me, until I realised my father still hadn't said a word, and was looking blankly at the floor.
"Dad?" I asked, crying again.
"I can't believe this. I feel like I have lost a son." He said, with no emotion whatsoever to his voice.
"But dad you didn't lose me, I'm the same person I was 4 minutes ago, the same person I has 4 months ago when I had my fourteenth birthday and you told me how proud you were of me…" The crying turned into hysterics and I started to register what he could be saying.
"But somehow I'm seeing you as a completely different person. Like you're a stranger to me, I don't know who you are anymore. I always saw you growing up to be like me, going to college, taking all your business and law and biology classes, graduating at the top of your class, meeting a beautiful girl, becoming a CEO or lawyer or doctor and owning a beautiful home and raising a family to follow in your footsteps. All of that is gone now. I don't know who you are."
My father said the last 6 words as he stormed out of the room, ran into the office and slammed the door behind him.
Something about those words told me I wouldn't be speaking to my father in a very long time.
My mother just looked at me with the absence of her usual 'I'm so proud of you' look, now replaced with the same 'who are you' look my dad had in his eyes. That was enough for the pain to rise in my chest again and cause the too powerful, hysterical sobs to start, as I legged it to my room, locked the door behind me and fell face first onto my bed.
I felt as good as an orphan.
Totally alone.
No one to support me, love me, and tell me I'm going to be alright.
My head felt like a bee-hive, swarming with 'what am I going to do now?' and 'who will I turn to?' as my chest and stomach twisted to the same rhythm.
The pain was the proof of what had just occurred. This wasn't a dream, this was mylife now.
Blaine Anderson: the orphan.
I forced myself to stop reliving that awful moment. That was the most amount of pain I had ever experienced. More pain than when I broke my leg falling down a hill, even more pain than when my pet hamster died when I was 6.
Nothing could compare.
Not even anything that has happened since then could remotely measure up to the loss and hurt I had felt in that moment.
Although my life after that moment had been nothing but loss and hurt.
I placed the picture face down on my desk; all it did was remind me how much I have lost in only 3 years. I always look at that picture when it nears my birthday, just to remind myself not to get my hopes up this year, nothing is going to change.
My dad's still won't say any more than a 'Happy Birthday' then continue to ignore me and treat me like a stranger, cause that is all I am to him now.
My mother will try to make me happy, but it won't work. She can't disguise the disappointment in her eyes that I know all too well.
One of the only things that will make me smile this year, something new that has brought a small ray of light into the dark world I have lived in for far too long.
Kurt.
This bright eyed, slim figured, brave, courageous and bubbly boy who came into my life, almost with the snap of a fingers, and changed my life forever. I feel like myself when I'm with him, not the sad and hurt boy I am now, but the boy I used to be. The cheerful and collective boy who knew exactly what he was doing, who wasn't afraid to be himself.
The boy I pretend to be around almost everyone now a day.
I haven't said one word to anyone about what I've been through.
Not even Kurt.
I just don't want them to pity me and consider me some sort of charity case that they have to take care of all the time. Yeah, it would be nice to have someone to talk to, but then I'd be treated differently. Treated different because of what I've been through in the past, like your past defines you, and how others see you.
I definitely don't want that.
Well in two days I'll have to face them all again. Put on that smiley face and pretend I'm the happiest and most cheerful person they know, and that I'm extra excited because the first day back just happens to be my birthday.
Great.
It's exhausting. The summer break has given me time to rest and allowed me to not have to pretend all the time.
But I guess I should start practicing my smiles