The Littlest Things Make All the Difference

I quite often play soccer whenever I am home with one of my best friends, who is currently engaged. Recently, after one of our scrimmages, he offered to give me a ride home.

This particular time around, I had decided to walk because I only live 5-ish blocks from the field; so I did not really think a ride from my friend was necessary. Nevertheless, he had offered, so I thought…why not? I’ll be courteous.

On the drive to my house he asked, “Do you like men?”

The Land I Cannot Love

After going back to live with my parents were I grew up, I recently realized something that I did not like: inevitably, probably not in the too distant future, I will be forced to move away from here for good.

This scared me; the thought of packing up a U-haul with everything I own and going to live in a new place—although it sounds exciting—brought tears to my eyes. Tears not of joy, but of sadness. I, very much down to my deepest bone, want to love this place—to call it home. The problem is I cannot. Being gay is just too much of a burden.