Post by Andrea on May 4, 2006 19:17:15 GMT -5
Note: This piece discusses homosexuality, but is not about the relationship between two men.
Standing in his room, surrounded by parts of him, I realized the depth of hurt that is created by the church, the open hatred thrown out by ‘people of God’. It appalls me; ruins a part of me that latched onto church for so long; it causes me to writhe inside and consumes me in silent agony.
For weeks I had known that something was askew, there had been an all encompassing vapor of impending doom surrounding us. I had waited for what felt like the ice age for the dam to break, for him to call and open the flood gates of our lives.
We weren’t lovers, we’re not even soul mates, but what we have is deep, like the rivers that run under the surface of the earth. Waiting for him to call was like waiting for Old Faithful to blow; I knew it had to happen, but waiting for it was slowly ripping my soul apart.
And then the phone rang, a chilling bell calling the midnight hour, the time of complete darkness. I considered letting it ring, but with each tone I felt as though our friendship was slipping through my fingers.
“Hello?” The phone was a dead weight in my hand.
“Anna*, I need you,” his voice was raspy, like he was emerging from a deep sleep.
“I know, I’m coming,” that fact was certain, and now I have ended up here, standing in this room of Alec* parts, watching as he paces back and forth . . .
"Anna, I um … " his voice wavered as he spoke and he cleared his throat before beginning again. "Please don't hate me … " he whispered as he wrung his hands.
"Alec, what is it? What's happened?" Sheer adrenaline pounded through me, Alec was not one prone to fits, nor did he routinely have nervous breakdowns. To see him like this made me think that he'd killed someone, poisoned his father perhaps. Or that Izzy, our best friend, had died, and he'd accidentally run her over. In the background Nightwish played, all songs of lost love and death, the unsettling, yet still melodic chorus echoed though the dank room.
"I'm sorry Anna, I don't want too, but I can't help it, I don't … I don't want too! Anna you have to forgive me … " he crumpled to the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, stress leaking from his body in the form of cloud-like tears.
"Alec, what have you done?" my knees folded underneath me and I landed with a thud next to him. "Please, I love you, whatever it is, we'll get through it," I promised courageously. The decision was made, I love him, he is my dearest friend, even if he had run over Izzy, I would still love him. I glanced across his room, my eyes skipping over brightly colored anime book covers and bedding, searching for some sign of self harm; a bottle of pills or a box cutter stashed under a pillow, like the last time …
The skin on his face was pale, stretched tight across his skull. His lips were pressed tightly together, and his eyes were wide and bloodshot. "I can't help myself Anna. I can't help how I feel. I can't prevent it. I’m already having these feelings. I can’t stop having them, and they’re out of my control. And I’ll always feel this way, so I'm already a sinner right? There's nothing I can do now, I'm marked, condemned, my name is in the book of death, my place in the ring of fire is secure, I might as well embrace it."
I was appalled, what was this about? Who would have said these things to my dear, sweet, Alec? The boy that got angry and yelled whenever someone ‘raped’ Izzy and me with their eyes: the boy who cried when we saw a baby bird fall from its nest and break his wing. The boy who loved chick flicks as much as I, and believed that he would find his princess charming and fall madly in love. So who had told this delicate, loving boy these horrifying things?
"Alec … what's this about? It's okay. It'll be alright. I love you." Something was seeping into my bones, and the bitter cold of winter overtook me. I felt as though I was slowly turning into a Popsicle. And then I realized what it was; fear.
"I … Anna, I can't tell you, you'll hate me."
"Alec, I can't hate you, I love you. Nothing you could do would ever change that-"
"I have, I've done it. I've done it, Anna! Hate me! Please hate me! Make this easier for me!" Downstairs his mother was belting, “I Will Always Love You”, by Whitney Huston, months later I would laugh at the irony in such an incident, but at present such an occurrence only made the agony of this situation more apparent.
"I can't, Alec! I can't hate you! I love you!" Light was seeping through closed Venetian blinds, attempting to penetrate the atmosphere of sorrow and gloom that had descended on the hunter green room. He spun away from me, facing a wall filled with pictures of our happier days, the easier days before the complications of high school, new emotions, different feelings, before we had become fully aware of our world, and the difficulties of that broader horizon.
"Stop then! Stop loving me!" he cried, tears painting lines on his face similar to modern art.
"No." I would not be moved on this issue. He could not push me away, I was a mountain, and he could not move me. I would fight him until my death if he tried to push me away now.
"Why not?" he whined, desperation resonating from his timid figure.
"Because it doesn't work that way, Alec. Love is not earned, it is given. I can't take it back; I've already given it to you."
"I don't want it anymore," he spat, anger beginning to color his formerly pale figure.
"Too bad, I know its cliché, but let’s call it tough love." I waited a moment, watching as his momentary defiance deflated.
"I'm gay, Anna." He was looking at the floor, gelled blonde hair falling over his eyes, I could see bleached teeth chewing on an already swollen, torn lip.
I sat on his bed clumsily and just looked at him. He was not the same as when I had met him, though I believe I wouldn't love him like I do if he was. We have grown together, loved together, and suffered broken hearts together. He and I are bonded like family, and unlike a large part of society I will not abandon him.
"You know what I believe," I said quietly. He frowned and nodded. "I love you," my voice was hushed, as tears fell down my face.
"How can you?” he roared, looking around his room, looking at anything but me. His weight shifted from one foot to another for several extended moments before his cornflower blue eyes rested on me again. “You’re supposed to hate people like me, love." The last word was a whisper; we have called each other love since we met. I was fifteen, he sixteen. He had decided that I was pretty, and according to Izzy he didn't ever randomly say someone was pretty, he didn't think most movie stars where pretty, but he had decided I was pretty. In turn, I had decided he was my vampire kitty guardian; he had asked if he could double as my lover when the spot was vacant.
"No, I'm not. That's a rumor started by ignorant, scared men, frightened of something completely foreign to them. Jesus did not come to sit with people in their churches. He came to show love to people who don’t think they should be loved, to show love to sinners. Forget what you know about me, I am a sinner. I don’t deserve love anymore than you do. But he's giving it to me, to you anyway. I can't tell you that I approve, or condone this, but I love you. I will always love you. I still want to be your friend, I still want to talk about everything with you, sneak our parents wine together, do all the stupid forbidden things that we can't for the life of us figure out why they're forbidden together. I still love you." He had leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, a boneless heap of exhausted Alec particles, but a slight, gentle smile graced his face as he pulled his giant green care bear into his lap.
As I sat on his bed, my head pounding to the beat of my heart, the shock of what had just happened had yet to wash over me. Tears that I would not acknowledge dripped down my face, leaving glistening trails of moisture behind. And then; irrational fear overtook me, separating me from Alec for several long minutes. What would me family say? What would my pastor, my teachers say? Wild thoughts crowded my mind, I’m a Christian, and according to the church I am supposed to condemn him. But I can’t, I won’t! My brain was screaming at me, a horrid, high pitched wail of desolation. This isn’t happening, I chanted to myself. As my blood began running through my veins like a marathon runner my own words floated back to me, ‘Jesus did not come to sit with people in their churches. He came to show love to people who don’t think they should be loved, to show love to sinners.’ Maybe the church is wrong on this one, the thought is not utterly obtuse, the church has been wrong before, so who’s to say that they’re not wrong now too?
*Names have been changed
Vampire Kitty Guardian
Standing in his room, surrounded by parts of him, I realized the depth of hurt that is created by the church, the open hatred thrown out by ‘people of God’. It appalls me; ruins a part of me that latched onto church for so long; it causes me to writhe inside and consumes me in silent agony.
For weeks I had known that something was askew, there had been an all encompassing vapor of impending doom surrounding us. I had waited for what felt like the ice age for the dam to break, for him to call and open the flood gates of our lives.
We weren’t lovers, we’re not even soul mates, but what we have is deep, like the rivers that run under the surface of the earth. Waiting for him to call was like waiting for Old Faithful to blow; I knew it had to happen, but waiting for it was slowly ripping my soul apart.
And then the phone rang, a chilling bell calling the midnight hour, the time of complete darkness. I considered letting it ring, but with each tone I felt as though our friendship was slipping through my fingers.
“Hello?” The phone was a dead weight in my hand.
“Anna*, I need you,” his voice was raspy, like he was emerging from a deep sleep.
“I know, I’m coming,” that fact was certain, and now I have ended up here, standing in this room of Alec* parts, watching as he paces back and forth . . .
"Anna, I um … " his voice wavered as he spoke and he cleared his throat before beginning again. "Please don't hate me … " he whispered as he wrung his hands.
"Alec, what is it? What's happened?" Sheer adrenaline pounded through me, Alec was not one prone to fits, nor did he routinely have nervous breakdowns. To see him like this made me think that he'd killed someone, poisoned his father perhaps. Or that Izzy, our best friend, had died, and he'd accidentally run her over. In the background Nightwish played, all songs of lost love and death, the unsettling, yet still melodic chorus echoed though the dank room.
"I'm sorry Anna, I don't want too, but I can't help it, I don't … I don't want too! Anna you have to forgive me … " he crumpled to the floor, knees drawn up to his chest, stress leaking from his body in the form of cloud-like tears.
"Alec, what have you done?" my knees folded underneath me and I landed with a thud next to him. "Please, I love you, whatever it is, we'll get through it," I promised courageously. The decision was made, I love him, he is my dearest friend, even if he had run over Izzy, I would still love him. I glanced across his room, my eyes skipping over brightly colored anime book covers and bedding, searching for some sign of self harm; a bottle of pills or a box cutter stashed under a pillow, like the last time …
The skin on his face was pale, stretched tight across his skull. His lips were pressed tightly together, and his eyes were wide and bloodshot. "I can't help myself Anna. I can't help how I feel. I can't prevent it. I’m already having these feelings. I can’t stop having them, and they’re out of my control. And I’ll always feel this way, so I'm already a sinner right? There's nothing I can do now, I'm marked, condemned, my name is in the book of death, my place in the ring of fire is secure, I might as well embrace it."
I was appalled, what was this about? Who would have said these things to my dear, sweet, Alec? The boy that got angry and yelled whenever someone ‘raped’ Izzy and me with their eyes: the boy who cried when we saw a baby bird fall from its nest and break his wing. The boy who loved chick flicks as much as I, and believed that he would find his princess charming and fall madly in love. So who had told this delicate, loving boy these horrifying things?
"Alec … what's this about? It's okay. It'll be alright. I love you." Something was seeping into my bones, and the bitter cold of winter overtook me. I felt as though I was slowly turning into a Popsicle. And then I realized what it was; fear.
"I … Anna, I can't tell you, you'll hate me."
"Alec, I can't hate you, I love you. Nothing you could do would ever change that-"
"I have, I've done it. I've done it, Anna! Hate me! Please hate me! Make this easier for me!" Downstairs his mother was belting, “I Will Always Love You”, by Whitney Huston, months later I would laugh at the irony in such an incident, but at present such an occurrence only made the agony of this situation more apparent.
"I can't, Alec! I can't hate you! I love you!" Light was seeping through closed Venetian blinds, attempting to penetrate the atmosphere of sorrow and gloom that had descended on the hunter green room. He spun away from me, facing a wall filled with pictures of our happier days, the easier days before the complications of high school, new emotions, different feelings, before we had become fully aware of our world, and the difficulties of that broader horizon.
"Stop then! Stop loving me!" he cried, tears painting lines on his face similar to modern art.
"No." I would not be moved on this issue. He could not push me away, I was a mountain, and he could not move me. I would fight him until my death if he tried to push me away now.
"Why not?" he whined, desperation resonating from his timid figure.
"Because it doesn't work that way, Alec. Love is not earned, it is given. I can't take it back; I've already given it to you."
"I don't want it anymore," he spat, anger beginning to color his formerly pale figure.
"Too bad, I know its cliché, but let’s call it tough love." I waited a moment, watching as his momentary defiance deflated.
"I'm gay, Anna." He was looking at the floor, gelled blonde hair falling over his eyes, I could see bleached teeth chewing on an already swollen, torn lip.
I sat on his bed clumsily and just looked at him. He was not the same as when I had met him, though I believe I wouldn't love him like I do if he was. We have grown together, loved together, and suffered broken hearts together. He and I are bonded like family, and unlike a large part of society I will not abandon him.
"You know what I believe," I said quietly. He frowned and nodded. "I love you," my voice was hushed, as tears fell down my face.
"How can you?” he roared, looking around his room, looking at anything but me. His weight shifted from one foot to another for several extended moments before his cornflower blue eyes rested on me again. “You’re supposed to hate people like me, love." The last word was a whisper; we have called each other love since we met. I was fifteen, he sixteen. He had decided that I was pretty, and according to Izzy he didn't ever randomly say someone was pretty, he didn't think most movie stars where pretty, but he had decided I was pretty. In turn, I had decided he was my vampire kitty guardian; he had asked if he could double as my lover when the spot was vacant.
"No, I'm not. That's a rumor started by ignorant, scared men, frightened of something completely foreign to them. Jesus did not come to sit with people in their churches. He came to show love to people who don’t think they should be loved, to show love to sinners. Forget what you know about me, I am a sinner. I don’t deserve love anymore than you do. But he's giving it to me, to you anyway. I can't tell you that I approve, or condone this, but I love you. I will always love you. I still want to be your friend, I still want to talk about everything with you, sneak our parents wine together, do all the stupid forbidden things that we can't for the life of us figure out why they're forbidden together. I still love you." He had leaned against the wall and slid to the floor, a boneless heap of exhausted Alec particles, but a slight, gentle smile graced his face as he pulled his giant green care bear into his lap.
As I sat on his bed, my head pounding to the beat of my heart, the shock of what had just happened had yet to wash over me. Tears that I would not acknowledge dripped down my face, leaving glistening trails of moisture behind. And then; irrational fear overtook me, separating me from Alec for several long minutes. What would me family say? What would my pastor, my teachers say? Wild thoughts crowded my mind, I’m a Christian, and according to the church I am supposed to condemn him. But I can’t, I won’t! My brain was screaming at me, a horrid, high pitched wail of desolation. This isn’t happening, I chanted to myself. As my blood began running through my veins like a marathon runner my own words floated back to me, ‘Jesus did not come to sit with people in their churches. He came to show love to people who don’t think they should be loved, to show love to sinners.’ Maybe the church is wrong on this one, the thought is not utterly obtuse, the church has been wrong before, so who’s to say that they’re not wrong now too?
*Names have been changed
