Vintage Diary Entry 4: Wednesday, August 12, 1992

1:35AM- Boy is this a day to go in my diary! I did it! No, not the proverbial "it" that you are thinking. I told Kelly! I handed this diary to her! She knows! I didn't even plan it, though. I was sitting in my room, feeling particularly depressed, actually contemplating suicide. And, ironically, the reason was that fact that Kelly and Sam are getting engaged. It wasn't that I was thinking about her; I couldn't be happier. Ity's that I was thinking about ME. I was being my usual self-centered self, by thinking about how happy she is going to be and how no matter what I can never be that happy because of the way I am. Mom and Kelly were about to go out to dinner again, leaving me by myself so that, I conceived, Kelly would be the center of attention yet again. I felt alone and bereft, and I sobbed for awhile on my bed. I was thinking of slashing my wrists after they left; seriously! I was planning on writing a heartfelt goodbye in this diary, then doing myself in with razors Sam used to make Kelly's folding door. But, before they left, Kelly came in my room to say goodbye. Immediately, she knew something was wrong. When she asked I told her nothing was wrong. She absolutely would NOT leave the room until I told her what was wrong. She shut the door shutting mom out. I began telling her lies lies, telling her that I was depressed about my job, and about how this summer has gone and everything, but she would not buy it. Finally, I relented. I unlocked the foot locker with trembling hands and took this book out. Without a word I handed it to her. I shuddered and sobbed as she read the introduction. I had an impulse to snatch it from her hands and lock it up again, but I was paralyzed. She read the crucial part. I waited for the bomb to drop. She looked up at me, all beautiful with her makeup and dressy clothes and perfume. I sat on my bed, waiting for her reaction. She sat on my floor and smiled, "Is this what you wanted me to read?" and she read the passage. Amazingly, I almost denied it, but it was far too late. Tears were in her eyes. Before I could say anything, she threw her arms around me and hugged me as we both sobbed. Then, she smiled at me, her mascara running and said, "I'm so proud of you. Thank you for tellimg me this. It took a lot to tell me this. Don't you think for one second that I love you any less. I love you more for trusting me with this." Soon after the melodrama of that scene, she apologized and left. She said we'd talk later. We did, when she got home. By then, I was floating on the highest, softest, warmest cloud in beautiful sunshine, surrounded by love and understanding for the first time in too many cold, dark lonely years. T0 my surprise, my mother came home first. She had been talking to Kelly. Kelly hadn't actually told her, but she must have hinted at it, for my mother asked what was wrong before they had left. I made up a bull-shit story about being worried about graduating high school and being on my own and very depressed. To my shock, she asked point-blank: "Are you gay?" I told her. She took it well, considering. She had a hard time with how I knew I was gay. "You can't be sure," she insisted. I told her how I knew. She still didn't buy it. Then she said that she didn't want that for me. She cried. Though I told her not to blame herself, she does. She thinks she could have done better for me. Later on, I talked to Kelly again and I got the shock of my life! She knew all along! "I knew since you were about that high." she said holding her hand 4 feet off the floor. "How?" I questioned. She said she just had a feeling...
----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

This was a big deal, but it isn't entirely the truth. I wanted attention. Shit-point-blank. There was so much BS that summer going on about the wedding. I would NEVER have fucking killed myself, either. I am completely incapable of suicide because if I get depressed enough, it turns into anger at everyone else that is depressing me. I was feeling totally ignored. It was pretty traumatic. Everybody else seemed to yawn about it. My problem was that I thought telling people was the only battle. I thought it would all be downhill from there and it fucking wasn't. I thought people not knowing was the root and cause of all of my emotional problems and by telling people I would feel normal. For the most part, it gave me a chip on my shoulder, as most teenagers and twentysomethings have. I was different, part of an alienated minority and EVERYTHING was about being gay. Thankfully, I have gotten over that. The main thing that cracks me up about this entry is my being surprised that she knew. In retrospect, I look back at some old pictures of myself and I immediately say: "What a fucking flamer!! Strangers had to have known!!" HAW HAW HAW Honestly, I'm lucky. A lot of gay guys out there get beaten, kicked out of their home and disowned or worse. Some others never tell anyone and live a lie ala "Brokeback Mountain". The part that pisses me off is that I had no guidance afterwards. I told everyone, now what? People knowing almost made me more lonely. I should have got the fuck out of the suburbs at the first opportunity. Hindsight is 20/20 though. It was what it was. And I lived through it.