Disclaimer: I don't even own socks without holes, never mind TV shows or the characters therein.


All around people say how wrong it is, asking themselves and each other why anyone would choose such a path. All around people say it's a sin, a perversion, a danger to society and the values it embraces. And until you know better, you believe them. You believe that it's dirty and vile and goes against nature. You believe that those who feel that way should be punished, and then shown the way to salvation. That they can be healed with the right direction and assistance. Because that's what you are told.

Then you start to notice things. You get older and never really grow out of the 'girls have cooties' phase. The idea of marrying and raising a family is all well and good until you try and imagine the beautiful wife standing by your side. At 11 years old you are drawn to the math teacher and his kind, warm brown eyes. At 13 you catch the first glimpse of the most beautiful boy you've ever seen, tall and gangly and already on his way to being the star of the football team and you know, just know, that he's going to be in your life somehow.

You can't hide your difference, but somehow that makes it easier. Family doesn't ask about girlfriends, Dad expects you to help with the cars but then doesn't comment when you spend the week's allowance on moisturizer. At school you're the well-dressed boy who dances and sings and takes daily trips into the dumpster but it's alright, that's been the way all through school so he must be used to it, right? But it's not alright. It's downright terrifying.

What if someone finds out your biggest secret, the secret they already know but you won't admit to? Life is already unbearable, how can you survive if it gets worse? Hiding, always hiding, but in plain sight so they know, and you know, but you're too scared to say it aloud and they're too scared to listen to you, to understand your difference. Because they grew up being told it was wrong, and a sin, and those who felt that way were perverted and should be punished. That's what they are doing, punishing you for your sin so you'll repent and turn away from it. But you can't. It doesn't work like that. Why can't they see it doesn't work like that?

And then...and then, there are friends. People who care about you and like you for who you are. They know you're different and they don't care. They care that you're hiding and scared and that you won't admit to the secret. But then you do. One petrifying, dizzying, memorable day you admit it to your closest friend and she still cares. And suddenly it's not so bad. They know and they don't change the way they treat you except, miraculously, you spend less time in the dumpster. And he's still there. There, every day. The tall 13 year old grew and grew into a muscled 16 year old with a smile that melts your heart and a voice that transports you to every dream you ever had and every fantasy you never knew you wanted. And he's your friend.

Some days you wait for the dream to end, to wake and be back in the world where you're all alone, hiding in the dark so the monsters can't find you. But the dream doesn't seem to be over; it seems to be life now. You think you spend your days asleep because this can't be happening. You sing and dance and kick a winning football. You go to the mall with friends and have sleepovers, watching the latest romantic comedies and relaxing in pajamas and face packs. And he's there, singing and dancing and playing football alongside you. For the first time you are happy. For the first time you don't feel wrong or sinful or perverted. You are loved for being you and you rejoice in it, but always, always are careful because any day now the alarm clock will sound and you will wake up. This dream world will be shattered and you will go back to hurting so deep inside you can't ever make it stop.

And then it's over, this dream of yours. One word spat over and over again in the same voice that transported you through dreams and fantasies, that soothed and bolstered and gave you the courage to be who you are. One word spat at a time when you were so close to being near him, to having a family to call your own, be feeling safe again with such a champion in your corner. Cruel to destroy your world so completely, cruel to throw the friendship you'd developed in the dumpster with the last of your hope. Cruel to come from one so loving and kind, who held your heart in his hands and knew it.

Darkness doesn't surround you as you expected it to; instead red mist fogged your every thought and colored your every word. He would not be forgiven. You tell yourself you don't need him, you have others who love you and won't hurt you. Their love is fierce and protective, enveloping you in pure brilliant white and chasing away the red mist. Cool and icy you deal with him; almost breaking when he comes to you filled with remorse, but determined not to relent. He deserves to feel a taste of the pain you lived with for years, all because of that word.

Then one day you can't handle it anymore. Your champion rides to the rescue swathed in red and chases away the monsters, accompanied by all those you hold dear. It's awkward at first but he talks and talks, uncharacteristic eloquence thawing the last of your icy attitude. The sun sets and rises again bringing with it understanding and hope, and the unconditional love of brotherhood only achieved by the willingness to accept each other exactly as they are, for whom they were and who they have yet to be.