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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

It Wasn't Me - 22. Chapter 22- Mom I'm gay

My dad and I haven't really talked deeply since he got back. I told him little things about living with Tony, things like his cooking, hanging out with Matt and Alfreda.

"Jimmy, I've been hearing that you did some movie thing while I'll was gone." He said at dinner one night.

We ate fast food all the time. Looking back I wished I've told him to eat a salad or two.

"What?" I asked stuffing fries in my mouth.

"I heard you stared in somthin for some film project at the school. Wow, my boy, a movie star. I would like to see it sometime."

I knew what he was referring to Matt's "social experiment". But I was never going to let them see that.

"Oh that was nothing." I shrugged.

"Did you mother call you?" He then asked.

"No, but she sent me letters though." I bit.

That got his attention. "Yea, how many?"

I got up went to get my shoe box.

He pulled a paper and read a few lines, "Oh."

"You know...my mom was gone. I don't think I deserved for my dad to take off too."

He wasn't yelling back. I questioned rather or not I heard me. He looked though the apartment. Until he picked up an off white photo album and sat the couch.

I sat down next to him as he flipped though the book.

He looked at me pointing to a photo, "That's you and me back went you were crawlin."

I look at the old photograph and laughed. One, dad had a mullet, a bad mullet. Two, I had no hair, I couldn't never image not having my thick locks.

***

We spent the night on the floor laughing looking that the terrifying hair styles of our past.

Then Matt walked in.

"Hey Mac." I cheered.

He sat down beside me as Dad pointed to a photo, "This is when we were teaching you how to ride a two-wheeler."

I remember that. We couldn't buy a bike so they taught me in the toys section of Toys R Us.

Matt shifted closer to me. "So you two have been looking at pictures."

I nodded.

Then we came across a photo of Matt and me when we were around 11 dripping wet.

"Oh my god, is that big water balloon fight we had?" Matt laughed as he wrapped his arm around mine.

"Yea, remember how much you wanted to win. It was like World War three to us back then" I chuckled.

"Yup, I was out for blood." He put his head on to my shoulder. "We had so much fun back then."

I rested my head on his, "Yea, I remember when that dorky kid, Ned something, went power crazy and turned on me." I looked over at him and tighten our arms together, "And you jumped in front of me and got soaked."

Dad chuckled, sat right next to us looking at the photo. I don't think he noticed the way Matt and I were positioned.

I looked around at the three of us. Being wrapped with Matt, with my dad laughing us. This is felt nice. I wish that could've lasted forever. I wondered why this couldn't be attainable.

Then we heard a knock on our door.

Dad got up and opened the door.

That was my mom.

I felt frozen. I wanted to cry, scream, and jump all that the same time.

"Can I come in?" She cried.

We all got up.

Dad nodded, "Um…um yea."

She met my eyes and ran to hug me, "Jimmy…I'm so sorry"

I released Matt and hugged her tight. "I missed you."

She kissed my cheek, "I missed you too baby."

***
A week later, I came home form school to find my mom was in kitchen trying to figure out what to cook. That was one of the things she said that she would do as a part of our fresh start. Dad was going to work on his drinking and work ethic. Mom was to try to cook family meals.

"Mom."

"Hi, honey." She greeted me, "How was school? How's your teacher friend doin?"

"He's fine." I nodded.

"That's good to hear. He's a good man."

"Yea he is…so where's dad?"

"He's at work" She said proudly. She was thrilled that Dad had found a regular job as a bus boy.

Then…I deiced to go for it. Something I had been thinking about since she came home. I remembered the kind of bond we had. I remembered much I used to thrust her. I remembered how good she was with keeping secrets.

"Mom, Can I talk do you about something?"

"Sure babe what's on your mind?"

I took a breath and sat down at the table, "Mom…I've grown a lot in the time that you have been gone and...in these past years I've been…finding myself and…"

I started to cry.

"What's the matter?" She reached out to rub my shoulders.

"Mom I always felt that you were one of the few people that loved me. I don't want to lose you…that's why I'm scared to tell you this."

"Well I do love you." She kissed the top of my head, "You're my baby, and I don't want to lose you either."

"I've been going back and forth on this for so long, and...I don't think it's something I could change."

She nodded, "Okay…are you in trouble in the law?"

"No" I shook my head.

"Did you get a girl pregnant?"

"No" I laughed.

"Did you…"

"I'm gay" I finally blurted out, "Mom, I'm gay"

She removed her hands. "You don't really know that." She stated.

I laughed;"Yea, I do."

She grabbed on to the table, "Oh my god…you mean…you have…"

"Kissed a guy?" I giggled like I was gossiping with my best gal pal. I hadn't realized yet what my mom was actually saying, "Yea I did. I even did it wearing the lipstick you gave me."

She dropped into the chair. She put her hand on her forehead. "This is all my fault."

That confused me. "Wait, what?"

Then she said, "I was an awful mother, and because of me you hate women."

"What? Mom, I don't hate women."

That's when I realized that this wasn't going to be fun girl talk. I stood up knocking my chair to the floor. "What's going on here?"

"Baby, don't you know that you can go to hell?"

I started yelling, "Where do you get off saying that?"

"Jimmy…"

"You sleep around, you dress like slut and then you leave your own family to do god knows what…then you have the nerve to bring up me going to hell. Since when are you religious?"

She stared at me silently for a second then commanded, "You not a homosexual you just think you are because I didn't raise you right." She pushed back her hair.

I wiped away a tear, "For some strange reason I thought that we had a good relationship. I thought you were more open-minded. I thought you would be okay with it."

"I understand why you feel the need to act out."

"Acting out?" I screamed, "You think I'm acting out? I'll show you acting out."

I flipped the chair over the table then stomped out and into my room. I fainted on bed rubbing my red eyes.

"What the hell was I thinking?"
%%%%%

I woke up that Sunday with a headache. Crying all night will do that to you. I got out my black notebook and scribbled some thoughts.

I took a deep breath, "Today is new day. Maybe now that she's had time to process everything…we can try to talk."

I walked out of my room to see my dad lying on the couch…drinking beer.


"Dad?"


He slowly turned to me and slurred, "Morning…um…um"

"James?" I pointed.

He signed, "Oh…yea"

I walked to the couch. Shattered glass was everywhere. I could once again feel the cuts on my feet. This is feeling was all too similar.

"Dad why are you drinking? Where's mom?"

He focused down the rest of his beer and threw it at the wall.

"Your mama is gone…again."

I quickly ran out of there. I ran out of the apartment. Out of the building. Out of the neighbor.

I had to wait until I was far away to started crying again.

I was cussing by self out, "Why you have to go on and fuck everything up?" I screamed.

"Why did you have to say anything?" I dropped on the ground and started banging my head on the concrete.

I have learned a bitter lesson.

Yet it is the most important to my education of life.

You don't know how much you meant to me.

You don't know how much I need you.

You don't know how much you taught me.

I'm scared by your deepest lesson.

A scar I will try to cover up with blush. But I'll still see it bleeding.

The more you love someone. The more they hurt you.

Copyright © 2015 Another Gay Writer; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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