Dave was sitting on the bottom step of the stairs in his foyer. His knees were up near his chest, where both of his hands were grasped to his ankles. His face was expressionless as he stared down at the hard wood floor. It was funny, he thought. He could remember so many times when he was younger where he sat in the same spot and in the same position that he was in now. Whether he was being punished for doing something wrong when he was little or whether he had just wanted a place to sit and think... this was always the spot where he had sat down. Now, here he was- eighteen years old and trying to gather up enough courage to walk into the living room to come out to his father, while sitting in that exact same spot on the stairs. It was a strange feeling. Knowing that there was the possibility that his dad would know the truth in a matter of minutes made Dave feel... well, he didn't exactly know how he felt about that. Surprisingly, he didn't feel scared. If he had to choose one word to describe himself at that moment, he most likely would have said that he just felt numb.

Slowly, Dave turned his head to the left and looked up at the grandfather clock that stood against the back wall of the foyer. He watched the second-hand move clockwise for a few minutes. It was the only sound that he had been hearing for quite awhile now as he had been sitting down. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.

He brought his gaze back to the hard wood floor, taking a deep breath. It ended up coming out much more shaky than he had anticipated, which only caused his nerves to increase quickly. Shaking his head as if it would, somehow, help to get rid of them, he stood up from the stairs and began to walk towards the living room.

Once inside, he stood there for a few moments, staring at the TV that his dad was watching from the sofa. Paul couldn't see Dave right then, as the sofa was positioned in such a way that his back was towards his son.

His dad was watching ESPN, where they were talking about the NFL draft that was set to begin towards the end of the following month. Dave loved football. He pretty much loved every sport you could think of, to be honest. Just like his dad.

After standing still for what seemed like an eternity, Dave finally began to walk around to the front of the sofa near where Paul was sitting.

"Hey, Dad," he said quietly.

Paul glanced over quickly, as if Dave had actually startled him. "Oh, David! Hey! I didn't know you were home," he smiled. He patted the cushion next to him, letting Dave know that he wanted him to sit down. "How are you doing?"

Dave sat down, clearing his throat, as it had become one of his nervous habits. "I'm okay," he replied.

They sat there silently for quite a few minutes, watching the show his dad had decided to turn on. Dave may have been staring at the TV intently, but... he honestly wasn't even sure of what they were saying since he was preoccupied with so many things in his mind.

Dave noticed his palms were sweaty, where he quickly wiped them against his jeans. "Do you know when Mom's gonna be home?"

"No, I'm not sure," Paul shook his head. "She's still over at your grandma's."

"Oh," Dave responded immediately.

Paul, clearly, hadn't noticed Dave acting in any kind of peculiar way. He laughed at something one of the show's hosts had just said, turning his head to look at his son. "You looking forward to the draft next month?"

"Yeah," Dave nodded.

"Yeah," Paul scoffed. "It'll be interesting to see what happens with the Browns."

Both of Dave's eyebrows shot up and then back down. "Who cares about the Browns?" he asked nonchalantly.

Paul glanced back at Dave, as his mouth had dropped open slightly. "Hey, don't you start talking bad about my team," he joked.

Dave let out a forced laugh, "Sorry."

"You wanna go to a game later this year?"

Dave looked over to his father, with a semi-disgusted look on his face. "To see the Browns? No," he shook his head, smirking.

Paul laughed lightly. "Well, we don't have to go see the Browns. We can drive down to Cincinnati and see a Bengals game."

A surprised expression came to Dave's face. "But you hate the Bengals."

"Yeah, but it's fine," Paul shrugged. "I'm thinking you deserve it anyways."

Dave knew what his dad had meant by that. He was no longer getting into or causing any trouble in school. He had raised his grades up quite a bit from where they were at a year ago. Paul had told Dave on more than one occasion, recently, that he was proud of the changes that he had been making.

"Thanks, Dad," Dave said, glancing towards the floor. "But uh... I don't know," he shrugged. "I might be kind of busy later this year, so... we'll see."

Paul's eyebrows wrinkled in confusion for a moment. "Busy?" His look of confusion then changed to a small smile. "Did you get accepted somewhere?"

Dave shot a fast look to his dad and then back to the TV. "Um, I don't know, I mean," he mumbled quickly. "It... doesn't really matter. I'm not even sure if I'm gonna go to college or not yet."

"David... we've already talked about this," Paul shook his head. "You need to go to college and get a degree."

Dave swallowed, though he didn't turn his gaze away from the TV or say anything back.

"Where all have you applied to anyways?" his father continued. "You haven't been telling your mom or me anything about that for awhile now."

For the past few seconds, Dave had been blocking everything out as he, once again, thought over what he wanted to say to his dad. This had been something that he'd been doing and planning for so long now, and he didn't want to forget or mess up anything.

Again, Paul's eyebrows wrinkled, as he didn't know why his son had yet to respond. "Dave?"

"Huh?" Dave was brought back to reality. "Oh, nothing... sorry. I was just, um, thinking about something."

Paul glanced over Dave's face a few times, shrugging lightly, as he was beginning to notice how strange his son was acting. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Dave replied, though his voice came out higher than usual because of his nerves. "I'm fine."

"Okay..." Paul nodded slowly, before turning his head back towards the TV.

They both sat on the sofa next to each other in silence, while watching more of ESPN, for another few moments. Dave had started rubbing his hands together, attempting to stop his palms from getting any sweatier than they already were. After making himself believe that he definitely would not be coming out to his father at that moment, Dave stood up and began to walk back out of the room.

Once he reached the doorway, Dave turned slightly to take a look at the back of his dad's head. He closed his eyes for a moment, going over all of the reasons why he had felt like he was finally ready to tell his dad the truth. Dave opened his eyes back up, letting out another shaky, deep breath, similar to the one before in the foyer. He remembered the words that Kurt had been saying to him for a few weeks now...

You can do it, David. I know you can.

Dave finally gathered up enough courage to walk back towards his father, standing close to him on his left. "Hey, Dad?"

"Yeah?" Paul looked up, smiling softly.

"Can I talk to you about something?"

"Yeah," his father nodded. "Just give me a few minutes. This is almost over," as he motioned his right hand towards the TV.

Dave stood there looking down at his dad for a moment, wondering if it was actually a good idea to wait any longer to tell him or not. It had taken him long enough to walk into the living room the first time, as well as to actually tell his father that he needed to say something. "I can't," Dave whispered.

Paul looked up at his son, with one of his eyebrows raised and a small smile on his face. "What?"

"I can't wait anymore."

The smile that was on Paul's face diminished, as a look of concern showed up over the way Dave had replied. "Alright," Paul stated, turning off the TV. "Sit down. Tell me what's going on."

Dave shook his head briefly. "I don't wanna sit down," he said quietly. He brought his left hand up, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked around the room. Dave wanted to be able to look at his father in the face, though he just couldn't bring himself to glance back down. "Dad, I uh..." he let out another deep breath. "I have a lot that I want to say to you and um," he finally lowered his head to see Paul. "I'd like it if you could just listen to everything from me before you say anything."

"Okay," his dad responded softly. The expression on his face seemed even more concerned than moments before. "Go ahead," he nodded slowly.

"Dad, I um..." Dave could already feel himself breaking down. This definitely wasn't how he had planned things out, but there wasn't much that he could actually do about all that now since he had already started. "I have something that I need to tell you and... I just..." His eyes began to get misty, and he tried to blink them away a few times. "I just really hope that you won't be disappointed in me."

Paul turned his head slightly while staring up at his son, where his mouth had opened just a bit in confusion, as he was unsure as to why David was so upset. To be honest, Paul couldn't remember the last time he had seen his son tear up like this. "David... you know you can tell me or your mom anything."

Dave felt a single tear finally drop from one of his eyes as it slid down his cheek. He wanted to brush it away with one of his knuckles, but his arms just felt so weak all of a sudden. His legs had begun to feel weak too, where he had to actually sit down on the sofa after he had already said that he didn't want to. "I couldn't tell you this..." Dave said, shaking his head as he stared at the carpet. "I didn't wanna tell you this..."

"Dave... just tell me."

Even though he was telling himself to calm down so that he could remember everything that he had wanted to say, Dave was still having a hard time in accomplishing that. After a few brief moments, he finally wiped away the single tear that had fallen onto his cheek. He sniffed a few times, trying to compose himself enough to be able to look back at his dad and begin talking without falling apart.

Dave looked down at his hands, taking another deep breath that was even shakier than the past few. He cleared his throat, hoping that his voice wouldn't be cracking too much when saying everything he was about to tell his dad. Slowly, he finally glanced over from where he was sitting to look his father in the eyes.

"Dad... do you remember when I was younger? You..." he looked back down at the carpet momentarily. "You used to tell me all the time that I shouldn't be afraid of anything... You'd sit me down and you'd tell me that I needed to learn to toughen up."

Paul just continued to stare at his son intently.

"You'd say that I was a Karofsky... which meant that I'd be able to handle anything that life threw at me easily. But..." Dave paused, feeling more tears come to his eyes once again. "But that wasn't true," he finally continued, shaking his head as the new tears started falling from his eyes. "That was never true... I wasn't able to deal with... a bunch of things," Dave huffed.

"And I took it out on a lot of people... a lot of people that actually care about me now. I hurt them because," he glanced back down at his hands, knowing his voice was going to be straining so much when he would start talking again. "Because I pretty much hated myself."

Dave looked back up at Paul, noticing how sad his dad looked.

"I thought... why should they get to be happy when I'm so miserable?" Dave shook his head again, wiping more tears away from one of his cheeks quickly. "I didn't think it was fair... nothing was fair. And there were so many times where I'd go to sleep at night... and I'd honestly wish that I wouldn't even wake up in the morning so that I wouldn't have to deal with any of it anymore..."

Rubbing the tears away that had fallen onto the top of his hands, Dave heard that Paul had started breathing harder. When he was able to look back at him, he noticed how his father's eyes had now become wet with his own tears.

"I couldn't even stand to look at myself in the mirror," Dave stated as seriously as he could. "I just hated everything... It wasn't supposed to be like this... I never deserved to feel like that," he shook his head, pausing for a few moments. "And I don't want to feel like that ever again." He sniffed a few more times, realizing that he definitely wasn't going to be able to stop crying anytime soon. "I'm so sorry, Dad... I'm sorry if you're mad at me... or if you're disappointed in me... but... I'm done being scared all the time."

Paul now had his own tears falling down his own cheeks, as he understood what Dave was trying to tell him. "David..."

Dave sniffed once more, swallowing hard. "Dad... I'm gay," he nodded.

"David..." Paul whispered, shaking his head as he brought his right hand up to cover his mouth momentarily. "I had no idea that you were going through all that..." he eventually said, though his voice was so strained. "Why didn't you just tell us?"

"I couldn't," Dave shook his own head, never letting his gaze leave his father's face. "I didn't know how to... Maybe I was hoping that if I didn't talk about it," he scoffed, shrugging lightly. "That... maybe it would just go away." Dave had to take a moment, glancing down towards the carpet as he realized what else he had wanted to say. "I never wanted to tell you..."

Paul's breathing had become shaky. "Why?"

A few moments went by where Dave still hadn't looked up from the carpet. Paul reached his left hand out, attempting to set it on top of his son's. "David..."

"Don't," Dave pulled his hand away, standing up from the sofa and walking towards the TV. He stayed there with his back to Paul briefly, knowing that what he needed to say next was most likely going to hurt his dad. He closed his eyes for a moment, taking another deep breath. Eventually, he slowly turned back to where his father was still sitting down.

"You really wanna know why?" Dave asked, sounding almost angry. "Do you know how hard it was for me growing up hearing all of your little side comments all the time? I mean... yeah, fine... you were around everybody and you'd say, 'I don't have any problems with anyone that's gay.'" He stopped momentarily, shaking his head at Paul.

"But then you'd be home... and it'd be just us," he huffed again. "And we'd be watching a show or the news and something would come up about gay guys or gay marriage... and what would you do? What would you say?" Dave looked down at his dad with a tense expression. "Do you know how much you made me hate myself even more than I already did?"

Dave could feel the tears coming back and falling from his eyes, but he didn't care. "I looked up to you... completely... but then I'd hear you say all that," he shook his head once again. "You really think that helped me? You really think all that made me feel comfortable enough to sit you down and say, 'Hey, Dad, guess what. I'm gay'?"

Paul was still looking up towards his son with one of the most painful expressions on his face, though he wasn't able to say anything yet.

"Dad... I'm sorry, but... you pretty much broke me every single time that you'd say something," Dave paused. "I felt like my life was a living hell," he shrugged lightly as more tears fell. "Only I didn't have anybody to help me out of it." Dave sniffed a few more times. "I needed my dad," he whispered. "But I couldn't even tell you."

"David," Paul said softly, raising his left hand up to cover his mouth for another moment as his own tears still fell. "David... I am so sorry that I made you feel that way... I never wanted that for you," he shook his head. "If I would've just... known... or-"

"Please don't," Dave interrupted. "I didn't tell you because I wanted to hear that from you."

Paul looked down towards the carpet, nodding briefly. "I'm so sorry, David... I... I don't even know what to say..."

Dave let out another deep breath, wiping at both sides of his face as he sniffed a few more times. "Dad... I don't want you to feel like it was just you. It wasn't just you... I didn't tell you that to try to hurt you or to make you blame yourself for what I was going through," Dave licked his upper lip, swallowing hard.

"It was so many things," he continued. "So many people... I was scared," Dave nodded. "And I still am. But... I'm done pretending to be something I'm not."

Once again, Paul nodded, though he was staring right back at Dave.

"I wanna be happy," Dave said softly. "I wanna fall in love... and nobody's ever gonna tell me that I can't."

Paul wiped a few tears away from his own cheeks, standing up slowly from the sofa, though not moving any closer to Dave. "David... I love you so much."

"I know," Dave nodded. "I love you too, Dad." He glanced down at the carpet once more, looking over to his left and his right nervously. "Look, I uh," he shrugged, raising his head to see his father. "I think I'm gonna head out for a little while, but, um... I'll be back later."

Paul's mouth opened slightly. "Dave, your mom's gonna be home soon... I think we all need to sit down and talk about this some more."

"Later, okay?" Dave replied quietly. "I just... I just need to get away for a little bit, okay?"

His dad took a step towards him. "David-"

"Dad," he interrupted, moving away from Paul and taking a few steps until he was in the foyer near the front door. "I'm going now," he said, as his father had followed him. Dave paused for another moment, wiping at the corner of one of his eyes. "Can you... please just tell Mom for me?" he shook his head. "I can't do this again."

Dave opened the front door, not even caring that he was about to step out into the cold March weather without grabbing his jacket.

"Dave, please don't go," Paul said.

"I'm sorry... I'll be back," Dave nodded.

"David-"

Paul was cutoff by the sound of the front door closing.