Happy Rainbow Month

DISCLAIMER
The story below is not real and is/or related to anyone. All copy rights should be reserved.
All in all, Happy Pride Month
:)


I AM GAY

Fifteen is a weird age because by then you are meant to figure out how being a teenager works but not really get it.

I was fifteen when I had my first kiss with my cousin, Stephen, he was seventeen and cute but not to me, it was 7 minutes in heaven. I was sixteen when I first had sex. No, not with my cousin but with a stranger I met at camp. It was a ‘in the moment’ sex. I felt nothing but pain, maybe he was just bad or I was not just feeling anything except pain.

I was seventeen when I met a girl, a girl that other girls didn’t want to talk to so I did. She was cool, the 90’s kind of cool, and her name was Eve short for Evelyn. We became two peas in a pod. I was eighteen when I had my first good sex; it was in Eve’s basement room. We were having a sleep over and she dared me to kiss her I did, things took a turn from there. I was eighteen when I realized I was gay.

I was nineteen when my parents found out. It was the summer after graduation Eve had come over and things got heated. Unfortunately my mum walked in with a tray of snacks that ended up being used as a weapon to stop Eve from incarnating her daughter into such devilish acts. It was the last time; she was running out of the door with her clothes in her hand and it as the first time I had been beaten in my house ending up in a hospital.

Things became different my dream college in New York was changed to a local college that was a 3-5 hour drive from home. I was forced from one blind date to another. I was twenty-five when I was pushed into marriage with a man named Andrew, we both didn’t want to get married but despite that we became friends and got married around mid-November. He knew about my sexuality and never forced me into things I didn’t want.

 Ten years later thirty-five years of age a steady happy family and two kids. I met Eve not in person but in an exhibit in a painting. It was a painting of me on the day we have sex, I was naked laying down barely covered with the sheets. Under the painting was ‘A bliss but uncertain by Evelyn Park’. I stood in front of that painting, dried tears on my cheek till the exhibit closed.

The past I tried to push down for ten years came back in one night. I looked at my family during dinners and stayed late at nights and wondered if I am really happy. Now I am eighty, my sons are happily married they found about my sexuality years later. My husband, Andrew, passed away last year his soul rest in peace. The reason I am writing this is because there is notin wrong with whom you are or what you love as long as you are happy. That night, when I was nineteen I should have stood up to my parents and told them who I am, things would have being different if I did. There is nothing wrong with whom you are.

My name is Cary Wells and I am gay.