Okay, so I’m out to pretty much all of my close friends, a few of my classmates, and a few close family members. And to my tumbler follers now, I guess.
But why is it that its so hard to come out to others? Why is it that I can’t simply tell these people “I’m Gay” and leave it at that?
Why do I have to go day to day with guys in my class telling me about some hot girl in the class and asking me if I’d “tap that,” or hear my grandmother ask me every once in a while about the ongoing number of girls that are obviously dropping at my feet?
Why do I have to hide my valentines presents from my cousins, or not talk about who they’re from when my Aunt asks “oh, I see you have a valentine.”
Why do I have to sit around and question whether or not God loves me and try and interpret the bible to fit my lifestyle, while at the same time sitting and watching happy straight men walk around without worry of eternal damnation or hiding who they really are.
Why do I have to sit and listen to my female best friends go on and on about that hot guy that I have a crush on, knowing deep down inside that I could never get the man I want not even because of a flaw in my personality, or because I’m not beautiful enough, or because I have bad teeth, or because I’m antisocial or weird or short or dumb or too quiet or too loud, but merely because I’m a man.
I’ll tell you why. Cause life sucks. I mean it REALLY does.
Now, there are many WONDERFUL things about life, many reasons to live. But that brings up another question- why is it that some people receive more opportunities than others to enjoy these wonderful things in life? Why are some people born to rich parents and have everything they could ever dream of, while some are born to poor parents and only DREAM of having the things they want.
But in that same sense, why are some people born to those rich parents, but still feel empty in the world?
I know, I know- some psycho-babble-bullshit about how all these things make you stronger in the end, and make you a well rounded person and all that jazz.
…So what about those that have killed themselves, or lost their lives before they were able to achieve this heightened state of “better living?” Why do they not get the chance to grow from the things in their lives?
Because life sucks. Its random, and its routine, and its racist, and its sexist, and its great for the fortunate, and great for the less fortunate, and it sucks for the fortunate and the less fortunate, and it spews hatred and bigotry and lies and betrayal and love and passion and music and sex and art and everything else.
You want to know why life really sucks? It doesn’t give a shit about anybody but itself. Life goes on, after having beat its people to a pulp, drained the souls out of them, forced them into prisons and rehab centers and school systems.
No one is ever good enough for life, except for the God that we read about in bible study, or the vampires we read about in Twilight and Vampire Diaries.
I really wish we could live in a world where life treated everyone fairly. Where everyone, black or white, has to face the day when their dog dies. Where everyone, short or tall, has to face the day when they break a leg. Where everyone, smart or less smart, has to face the day that they lose their virginity to the love of their life. Where Everyone, drug addict or child prodigy, has to witness the death of their little brother. Where EVERYONE, RICH OR POOR, has to see their dream realized and live a happy life.
Where everyone, gay or straight, has to come out to their friends, their classmates, their teachers, their bosses, their neighbors, their cousins, their aunts and uncles, their grandparents, their brothers and sisters, their parents… themselves.
I just wish life were a little less… selfish, I guess.
Is that so much to ask?