You know when you have something really important that you just need to share with others, but you can't. You just aren't brave enough. So you keep it inside. And it's like this stone sinking in your chest. And it gets worse the longer you let that stone be there. It gets heavier, and soon you feel like all your limbs are made out of lead. You feel tired and exhausted all the time because you have to keep up this façade and never let anyone suspect that something is wrong. You try to find things that will make it feel a bit less pressing. Like escaping to music, because music makes you feel safe. It takes away a bit of the loneliness in all that heavy dread. But then the music just isn't loud enough, and maybe it never will be. Not until you've let out all your emotions and that big secret you're carrying around.
My name is Blaine Anderson. And I'd like to tell you my story, and also my secret.
It all begun at my old school. Recalling the name is unnecessarily hurtful and isn't going to help anything, so I'll just call it my old school. That's ok, right? Anyway.. I guess this started in freshman year. I was fourteen years old. I was young and naive. I thought the best of people. But I learned the hard way that you shouldn't always do that. I wasn't someone you really noticed at first. Sure, I was outgoing and I loved talking. People said I always smiled, and that my smile could light up everyone's day. Well, that smile showed up a little less often when I discovered something. All the boys in my class, hell, all the boys at my school, where starting to talk about girls. About girls they liked, or just crude things about girls that were hot. I really didn't understand what they were talking about. Girls were girls, right? I didn't think you would be interested in them already. I mean, no offence to girls or anything, but I had no interests in boobs and that stuff. I guess it was then I started to really notice how different I was. While the other boys shared their crude jokes with each other, and a bit nervously, shared their experiences with girls to their friends, I was busy with something else. I was watching them.. the boys, my classmates. I noticed how their shoulders were getting broader, and how the trail of hair down their stomach towards their crotch was really intriguing. I don't know if it was there and then that I realized it, but somewhere around this time. I'm gay. I still have a hard time accepting it. But I'm getting help. Well, more of that later. The thing is, they started to notice me. They saw me looking. At first, they didn't really seem to think anything about it. We all know what you steal glances at the other people in the locker room. Just to see, who has the nicest abs? Who has come the farthest in puberty? Who has chest hair? Who doesn't? Stuff like that. But then they noticed that my glances was a bit.. different. I looked with awe and admiration. That's when it started. And with it, I mean the disgusted looks shot my way. The cries of: "Fucking homo!", "Hey fag, wanna suck my dick?", "You're an abomination, stay the fuck away from me". That last one was from my best friend since middle school. It hurt. It hurt a lot. It's hard to explain really. How it feels I mean. Everybody you know looks at you differently. They look at you like you've done something terribly wrong, like you're some criminal that they're afraid of and repulsed by. It makes you question yourself. And at that time, I didn't know much. I didn't know if I was gay or not. I just knew that I liked watching boys and not girls. I wasn't ready to come out, because I wasn't sure yet. But I wasn't careful enough. Soon everyone knew that I was a cocksucker. And bear in mind, I'd never even kissed anyone at that time, so those crude words made me feel awful and filthy.
No one stood up for me. No one cared. Not the teachers, not the school board. I got harassed; both with words and with violence. They'd wait by the outside of the school, ready to beat me up or yell mean things after me. These people were the older students, mostly the popular jocks.
It went on like this for months. And I survived. At least until the Sadie Hawkins dance. I decided to go with a friend. One of the few friends I had. Oh, who am I kidding? The only friend I had. He was bisexual, so he didn't have a problem going with me. We didn't really have a good time. Everybody stared at us, even though nobody really did anything, it was still unsettling. So we decided to go home early, and called his dad to pick us up. While we waited, the older jocks came. I don't want to go into detail about this, but they beat us up. Like, really beat us up. I had three broken ribs, a gash at the back of my head, some minor cuts and several bruises all over my body. With the gash came a concussion. I was in the hospital for a while. And when I checked out from the hospital, we were moving to Lima. My parents are really rich, so it really was no problem for us to move so suddenly.
That's how I ended up at William McKinley High School in Lima. I'm safe here. My parents don't know my secret, not my brother either, and nobody at my new school knows, especially not my girlfriend, Quinn Fabray. Do not get confused, I'm not bi nor straight, I'm just really far into the closet. Like, really, really far. And I didn't plan on changing that until college, or maybe not even then.
Then, of course, Kurt Hummel came along, and everything changed.
You know my secret, that I'm gay, but I am now about to tell you my story. Oh, you thought what you've read already was my story? No. That's only the beginning.