Date: Mon, 26 Mar 2012 01:06:14 +0100
From: Kyro Clark <kyro3@hotmail.co.uk>
Subject: The Truth About Coming Out

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Disclaimer.

This story is a work of fiction although it is loosely based on the real
life experiences of the author.

This story contains graphical depictions of sexual contact between two
adult males. This story also contains harsh language or swearing and
depicts scenes of alcohol and drug use. It should not be read by anyone
where it is illegal to read such material and should not be read by anyone
under the age of 18.

The author retains the copyright, and any other rights to this story. This
story may not be published, copied or redistributed in any way without the
explicit consent of the author.

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Authors note.  I don't know why I'm uploading this. I suppose I hope that
maybe there are a few more people out there like me who can relate to
this. Anyway, I don't know if this will become a story, or a one-off or
what. All I know is, I was angry, and here's the result.

No editor
No self-editing
No spell check
No read throughs
Just anger..................anger and fear.

Send any feedback to:          kyro3@hotmail.co.uk
And could you please include the title of the story, thanks in advance :D
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The truth About Coming Out
Chapter  1
Written in less than half an hour, By Kyro


I look at the blank screen, the same cursor has been flashing back at me
for the past 5 or so minutes, blink, blink, blink... What should I write?
How do you start off writing a story that isn't like any other story I've
written so far? How do you start writing a story that isn't rolled in
fantasy? That isn't thought out? That doesn't even have an ending in sight?
This isn't like most other stories that I've written. This one isn't close
to the truth; this one isn't 'based on a true story.' This one is the
truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

So why am I writing this story? Why am I not putting all my time and effort
into finishing my other stories like Glitter and Trauma? Because I'm out on
the ledge... I'm out on the ledge and... I'm alone.  And for the first time
in my life I'm ready to admit...that I'm scared. There's no one coming to
help me, no knight in shining armour; no Superman to catch me when I
fall. If it was one of my friends out here, I'd be there to catch them, I'd
be sure to save them. But they're not here for me. Why? Is it because I
pushed them away?

Yes... and no. They wanted to be pushed away; they never wanted to be
friends with someone like me. They made that pretty clear. So when I gave
them a nudge to distance myself from them, they went running as fast and as
hard as they could. And who could blame them? They were always cautious of
me, the 'oddball', the 'strange one of the group', the 'weirdo.' They took
my intelligence and used it as a weapon against me, they made the fact that
I was smarter than them something to be ashamed of. And do you know what?
I was.

I was ashamed of being smart, of being in love with outer space, of liking
computer games, of being good at programming, of reading manga, of being
able to fix Xbox's, to fix PC's, to fix cars.... I was even ashamed that I
was gay...

*sigh*...

So I guess if you read the title of this story then it's no surprise to you
that I'm gay. It's no surprise to you, someone who I've never met before in
my life. And yet, my friends and family still think I'm just your average
straight guy. If they were to find out I'm gay, it wouldn't be a revelation
so much as a bereavement. It would be the death of the last part of me that
they could really relate to.  *sigh* Somehow I've now managed to tell
complete strangers more about myself than those who are supposedly closest
to me. How twisted is that?

So why am I writing this? What drove me to this point? What made me vent my
feelings to a computer screen and then upload it to a website for other
people to judge me over? I guess that's a long story and I'm planning to
keep this short, so let me just tell you about today, there'll be plenty of
time to fill you in on all the rest.

In engineering we deal with equilibrium, everything in the universe must be
in equilibrium. 'Energy can't be created or destroyed,' 'equations must
balance,' etc.  So what wrecked my equilibrium? I wish I could give you
some sort of profound explanation. I wish I could tell you I had some sort
of ground-breaking, breath-taking, world re-defining epiphany... But I
didn't, I just got tired. It's as simple as that. I got tired, tired like
I've never been before in my life. When I finished walking home from uni,
my limbs weren't throbbing with their usual drive; my body wasn't urging me
to go upstairs to my room and get on with the next piece of uni work, the
next song I had to learn on my guitar, the next chapter I had to write for
my story. No... my body wasn't urging me to do anything...all it was saying
was, 'I'm tired.'

I sat on the couch in my living room with my head in my hands, thinking
about how my friends and I are drifting, thinking about how much of myself
I've locked away from people because they don't understand it or think it's
abnormal, thinking about how I'm constantly lying to people about my
sexuality. So the logical thing to do would be to tell that one person who
you think you can trust more than anyone, that you're gay, right? Everyone
has someone like that in their life. A friend, a grandparent, it doesn't
matter who they are, you trust them more than anyone in the world and if
you had to put your life in someone else's hands, it'd be theirs.

So who is my 'go-to-guy?' Who is my 'Goose?' Well...it doesn't matter
anymore, because he can no longer be there for me. He made sure of that
when he began dating my little cousin. I know that if I were to tell him
that I'm gay, then he'd have to be honest with her should any conversation
about me come up. And the last thing I want is for someone except him to
know. I had never been able to bring myself to ask him to lie to her for
me. And do you want to know what the worse part of it is?  I'm sure that if
I asked him to, he would, he would tell her I was straight, because that's
how close we are, and that's why I can't ask him. So I had to sacrifice the
best friendship in the world for the sake of my little cousin. I guess a
part of me should resent her for stealing my best friend, I guess a part of
me should be angry. But I'm not, not even slightly. He's my brother in ways
that my 2 genetic siblings will never be. We've had more times together
doing crazy stuff than most people would ever come near to doing in a
lifetime, and I know he'll take good care of my little cousin. I may not be
in love my best friend, but I definitely love him, just as I love my little
cousin.

So what about my other friends, why haven't I told any of them that I'm
gay? Well they've made enough remarks about gay people for me to know
exactly how they feel, they haven't held back and I guess I could always
admire them for their honesty, even if it was a dagger through my heart. So
I guess the next thing you would do is try to tell your family? Well my
family aren't any better than my friends. Growing up in Glasgow in the 60's
and 70's breads a certain type of person, a person who's racist and
homophobic yet somehow completely unaware of how wrong it is.

But that wasn't what I was thinking as I sat there. All of that stuff is
usually at the very forefront of my mind along with my uni work and my
friends' problems and family problems and any other problems that anyone
else had decided to throw on top on that given day. But at that moment, all
I could think about was how tired I was. How tired I was of keeping
secrets, how tired I was of lying to everyone, how tired I was of having to
make sure anything which could be deemed even remotely gay on my computer
was deleted or password protected. I was just so damn tired! And that's
when I continued to stare at the nought on the laminate flooring beneath my
feet and uttered a few words to my mum who was sitting on the couch
opposite me.

"I don't know if I can do this anymore, I'm so tired. I'm trying so hard to
keep it up but I feel as if I'm struggling today."

"What's worrying you?" My mum asked concerned. "Is it uni?" She asked
immediately picking up that this wasn't just your ordinary bad day.

I could feel tears beginning, I just wanted to get it all off my chest, I
wanted to be rid of it all, all the fear, all the doubt, all of the
tension. If they were going to kick me out, better it be now than later.
But something stopped me from saying it, my voice was catching in my throat
as I choked out the next few words.

"I'm just struggling...just now."

"What's wrong? You're worrying me now."

I shook my head, trying desperately not to cry and not daring for a minute
to raise my stare from the floor.

"What is it?"

"It's nothing." I shot back reflexively.

I wanted to say it. There were times when I had thought about coming
out. There were times when I had flirted with the idea, danced with danger
but had never really been serious about it. Not this time, this time I was
serious about it. I could hear myself saying it over and over in my head,
I'm gay, I'm gay... Only to be painfully reminded by the eerie silence that
nothing was coming forth from my lips.

"It's really bad, mum. And there's nothing I can do about it."

"What is it?"

A few moments of silence passed as she waited on my response, I didn't know
what to tell her, I was being eaten alive by fear.

"I don't think I can tell you." I could feel my hands begin to shake
against my head slightly.

"You know I'll always love you so it doesn't matter what you tell me," she
reassured.

I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach, surely this was it; surely this was
the ideal moment to come out. Surely she was saying all the things I could
ever possibly want her to say. If so, then why didn't I believe her? Why
couldn't I shake this niggly feeling of utter distrust? Why had she said
all the other things about gays being perverts? Why had she said that she
could understand many things, but she'd never be able to get gays? Why had
she said that she thought two guys kissing each other is perverse?

"It's nothing." I said standing up getting ready to leave; my gaze was
still on the floor. One look at her face and I knew my defences would come
tumbling down; I wanted to tell her sooooo badly, I just couldn't.

"Is it to do with money?"

"No."

"Your health?"

"No," I said getting irritated and moving towards the door.

"You're worrying me. You know you can tell me anything.  You're my son and
I'll always love you to death. We'll deal with it whatever it is but you
just need to tell me."

I stepped through the door feeling scared and panicked, she loved me, but
would she always like me?

"It's nothing, just uni stuff, I'm gonna go for a sleep," I said trying to
brush it off. I put my hands in my pockets to stop them from shaking, if
she saw that, she would definitely come upstairs and interrogate me and to
be honest, I would have cracked.

I would have cracked......

Send any feedback to:          kyro3@hotmail.co.uk