Signs
I shielded her from the sticky ball of wet dirt from hitting her. It stung as it melted against my shirt.
“Come on, Jolene. Just keep walking fast.” We walked faster, trying to get to the car in time for safety.
“You’re a disgrace!” I heard from the distance, and could faintly hear a hand going back into the mud. She started crying, and I urged her to move faster. I promised that we would be safe if we moved quickly.
We made it to the car, but only barely. A splatter of mud plastered itself against the window of the driver’s seat.
“Daddy, can I sit in your lap until we get home?” She asked me, as I dried her tears the best I could.
“That’s dangerous, honey. Go in the backseat and we’ll be home before you know it.” I gave her a kiss on the forehead, and she left my lap for the backseat, just like I told her. She wasn’t much for rebellion, and did what she was told majority of the time. She was a blessing of a six year old.
We pulled into the driveway, and I noticed that there was no other car, until I remembered the reason for it, I became worried.
“Where’s Steve?” She asked, unbuckling her seatbelt, with the door already half open. I knew she was happy to be home, as any child who went through what we just did would be. It sickened me to see the mud stains on her shoulder. They got her a little bit despite my desperate efforts. Sometimes I feel that it was a bad idea to bring her into our home, into such a close-minded community. I’m just thankful that she has a heart big enough to be oblivious to all the ignorance.
“He has to work late today.” She looked down a little.
“Okay.” I’m just thankful she’s so accepting, and loves us both so much more than we deserve.
She went inside, and I followed after her, but a lot slower. Steve has been working late for the past few days, and it’s hitting both Jolene and I pretty hard. We miss him.
The first thing I did when I got inside was grab the phone and start dialing. As I heard ringing from the other end, I watched as Jolene walked into her room with a coloring book in hand. I had never met such an art-loving child until I met Jolene.
“Hello?” Static muffled his voice, but I was still able to understand.
“Hey babe.” I replied.
“Hey, I’ve been waiting for your call.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Our walk took a little longer than expected.”
“How’d it go?” The question reminded me of the mud streaks on my daughter’s shoulder, as I looked down at the side of my shirt, also stained completely brown.
“Not as planned.” He sighed. He knew that ‘not as planned’ was code for ‘just as we had feared.’
“Is she alright?” He asked, his voice gone soft.
“She’ll be fine.” I answered. I had gone a little soft myself.
“I should get back to work.” A pain shot through my heart. I did not want him to leave.
“When are you coming home tonight?”
“Don’t wait up for me.” I knew that meant that it was going to be really late again. It was just like last night. He didn’t crawl into bed until nearly 2 in the morning. I waited for him to say something else, refusing to reply to his request. He knew I’d disobey it.
“I have to go, darling. I’ll see you tonight.” He broke the silence.
“Okay. I love you.”
“I love you too, Brian.” The phone clicked to signify his absence. I hung up the phone, and walked down the hall to Jolene’s room. She was laying on her bed coloring, using every color of the rainbow, or so it seemed. I watched for a minute, but then started to walk away.
“Daddy?” I heard her stop me. I took a step back, and looked at her through the doorway.
“Yes?”
“Can I ask you something?” She must have threw her drawing somewhere quick in the split second I wasn’t in the doorway, as she was sitting on her bed all alone now. I walked over to her and sat down next to her.
“Of course. Anything.” I promised her.
“Why were those people throwing mud at us?”
“Well, it’s because they don’t understand us.”
“What’s so hard to understand?”
“Some people have just sunk so deep into normalcy that they don’t even consider accepting a change.” She blinked at me. I confused her, so I simplified my words.
“They don’t accept Steve and I as a couple. They think we aren’t…normal.” It was hard not to stutter over the last word. I hated that word. Normal. A word in the english language meant only to take up space in a dictionary. It has no definition nor does it have meaning, yet it’s there.
“Are you and Steve married, Daddy?” She asked me.
“Yes.”
“Jessica says that marriage has to be between a man and a woman. Why didn’t you marry a girl, daddy?” It was hard not to cry whilst she was asking me these things. Seeing and feeling the rejection and ignorance that they’re teaching her in school is what hurts the most. My biggest fear is that she’ll grow up to be just like them.
“Because I love your daddy with all of my heart, and I know that no woman could ever measure up. With the exception of you, of course.” She smiled, and I returned it.
“Now, go to sleep. It’s getting late.” She smiled, and grabbed a stuffed animal to hug while she retreated under the covers. I turned off the light and left, with only one thing to look forward to; waiting alone on a double bed for Steve to come home.
—-
He didn’t sneak in last night until close to one in the morning. I didn’t have nearly enough energy to say much to him, so we just went to sleep. I greeted the morning by my lonesome, as usual. It’s something I’ve had to get used to as of late. My eyes opened to see a folded paper on my nightstand. It was a note in Steve’s handwriting.
’141 Green Point ave.’ It read. It was an address.
“Jolene.” I was shaking her lightly, but with enough force to wake her. She rolled over and rubbed her eyes drowsily, groaning.
“Daddy?” She mumbled.
“Get dressed. We have to go.”
“Go where?”
“I don’t know.”
—-
My body was tingling with discomfort. I only wanted to leave, nothing else. Jolene gripped my hand tighter and tighter, and my mind rejected Steve for leading us to this place.
It was a Church. People were standing around it, with signs protesting people like us. I don’t know why, but it’s clear that they were unhappy with our presence here. As if I didn’t know that before.
The signs had very hurtful words on them. Lots of them said the same old thing; that all homosexuals would burn in hell. Even with hearing it for a hundredth time, it stung the edges of my heart. Some were different. There were signs that talked about a program through the Church for ‘curing homosexuality’ and ‘saving yourself from the devil by turning straight.’ As if it’s a choice.
There was one sign that caught my eye. It had three words, while the others had paragraphs. It burned a hole in my stomach, and made my eyes water with anger.
‘Save the Child.’ It read. The child, being Jolene.
“There they are!” I heard a voice call as we walked down toward the hoard of signs. They all started yelling at once, one hurtful saying after another. I knelt down to Jolene quickly.
“Go stand over there and wait for Daddy.” I said, mentioning to the big tree along the sidewalk. She nodded with a straight face, showing no emotion. I watched her walk over to the tree, and turn around to stare at me. I turned back to the crowd, and searched for the one with the angriest sign. I picked her out easily. I thin, short-haired blonde woman.
“Save the Child?” I asked.
“Yes. A child needs both a man and a woman for parents in order to grow up as a healthy child. Aren’t you concerned about her well-being and ability to function normally?” It was hard to contain my anger with hearing this, but I was able to. Just barely able to.
“She is growing up just fine with Steve and I. She’s one of the smartest kids in her class.”
“She will burn in hell along with you.” With that ringing in my head, I lost it. I pushed her to the ground, my hands around her neck. As I was about to do something I knew I was going to regret, I remembered the stare of Jolene from the big tree. I didn’t want her Daddy to lose control. I glanced to the tree, but Jolene wasn’t there. I began to panic. I swiftly got to my feet, and darted my eyes around.
“Jolene!” I called, but instead, I attracted the attention of all the other sign-holders. They ran back to me and crowded me with questions and accusations. I struggled to get past them, but there was no use. I could barely move, and the concern for my daughter was suffocating me. What if they had taken her? I became angry at them, even more than I was before.
“Look over there!” The woman I had just threatened yelled. Her finger pointed in a direction that led all the way to the tip of the Church lawn, right at the curb, whereas we had all moved toward the middle. The crowd had stopped hassling me to look, and I saw the same thing they did. It was Jolene, standing there with a piece of paper taped to a popsicle stick. I was able to push through from the crowd’s distractions and run over to her.
“Jolene? Where were you?” She didn’t say a word to me. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t even move. The crowd walked toward us, but I paid no attention to them.
“Jolene, answer me.” I said, with a tone a little more hoarse to get her attention. She gave no response. That’s when I noticed it. The people had crowded near us to notice as well, a more calm look on their faces, with a hint of guilt behind it. I knew my face had the same expression.
The piece of paper and the popsicle stick, two of the three things she had in her pocket at the time, were used to create a sign that changed the people in my closed-minded town, as well as changed me. She did not react to anyone. She did not say word, did not move a muscle. She just stood on the edge of the curb with a sign reading ‘Hope.’
-xLLSx-
(Source: allsmileshere)
Coming Out
The only bad thing about secret girlfriends is that you aren’t supposed to get upset when they are hurt in a fatal car crash.
When I got the call about Andrea, all I wanted to do was break down and cry for hours on end. My mother was in the room washing the dishes, and my boyfriend Rob was sitting on the table, watching me talk on the phone to a stranger. I could not cry. I could not show any emotion. All I could say to the nurse on the other line was “Okay, I will.” I confused her, but I could not let anyone know about what was happening.
I hung up the phone, and Rob came up to me and kissed me on the cheek.
“Everything alright, honey?” he asked.
“Yeah.” I choked. I was surprised I was even able to speak. I looked down, as I did not want him to see the emotion in my eyes. Her name kept flashing through my head over and over again, like a broken record. Andrea, Andrea, Andrea…
“Who was that?” He asked. I swallowed.
“A friend from school wants me to help with a project. I’m sorry, I have to go.” I pushed him out of the way, and I headed for the door. I thought I heard my Mom turn the sink off and watch me go, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was that I had to see Andrea, before it was too late.
A wave of pain went over my heart at the thought of it being too late.
I held out my hand, and yelled for a taxi, panicking. I could feel Rob and my mother’s eyes on me from the house, and so I refused to turn around. I heard the sounds of quick-paced footsteps coming from behind me, and I prayed for a taxi to come soon enough.
Thankfully, a taxi pulled up right before the footsteps could catch up to me. I threw myself into the backseat, and yelled the name of the hospital before I had even closed the door all the way.
Seeing the city lights had never been so dreadful. A taxi ride had never been so long. I just needed to be there for her, and I needed to be there now.
We pulled up to a big white building that read St. Anthony’s Medical Center in gray lettering. I handed the driver a ten dollar bill, and dashed into the building.
“Hi, I’m looking for Andrea Wilson.” I demanded from the lady at the front desk. Please, let me visit her.
“Ah, yes! Room 51, on the second floor.” I left without a thank you. I pushed the north arrow on the elevator, watching it light up to a bright orange. I waited. 1…2…
The stairs would be quicker. I opened the door to the staircase and ran up them, each step taking days to pass, it seemed.
And then, I was there.
Rm. 51, the door read. I slid it open, and I saw her there. She was lying on the hospital bed, lifeless and cold. As fast as I was going since I got that phone call, it all came down to this. At this moment, I have never walked so slow. I reached her bedside, and knelt down.
“Andrea…” I whispered, holding back tears. She drowsily opened her eyes, and turned to face me. She had a faint smile spread across her lips.
“Laura. You came.” She muttered. I smiled. It felt so good to hear her voice, her sweet, lively voice.
“Andrea, I was so scared. I thought that this was the end, and I-” She pressed her fingers against my lips to stop my rambling. I stared blankly at her. She grabbed my hair, and pulled me in for a kiss. I can recall that as the best kiss we have ever had, throughout our entire 16 months together. Not a single one could even come close to how her lips felt against mine in that exact moment.
She caressed the side of my face, and looked me straight in the eye.
“I wouldn’t ever leave you. Not for the world.” I couldn’t hold back the tears anymore, and I leaned on her chest, sobbing. She wrapped an arm around me, and held me there for a while.
—
I opened the door ever so slightly and quietly, but my mom had come rushing toward me anyway.
“Where were you?!” She yelled at me, and began rambling about how irresponsible I was, and how worried she was about me. I couldn’t blame her. I spent the night at the hospital with Andrea, even though she had told me that she was fine, and that she could come home today if everything went well.
“Mom, we need to talk.” I had decided on the way home that the truth had to come out. I couldn’t hold it in anymore, and I can’t keep putting us at risk. Plus, my mom deserved to know, whether or not she accepts it. I pray to god that she does accept it.
“You’re damn right, we need to talk! You were gone all night! Where the hell were you and what did you think you were doing running off like that?” She yelled some more. I placed my hands on her shoulders, and spoke softly.
“Mom, just calm down. Can we talk in the living room? I have to explain some things.” She had calmed down, at last, and led me to the living room. I sat on the couch and she sat on the love seat across from me, and we just sat there in silence for a good minute whilst I gained my courage to speak. She sighed, and looked to her right.
“Are you going to tell me, or not?” I could see she was still a little angry, and impatience was relighting the fire that I had just made an effort to put out. I took a deep breath, and looked at the ground.
“I’m breaking up with Rob.” She leaned closer to me, and I could feel the sorrow in her voice. She loved Rob almost as much as she thought I did. After all, she was the one who set me up with him.
“Why? I thought things were going so well with you two…”
“Mom, I’m cheating on him. I…I’m in love with someone else…not him.” She stared blankly at me, looking so broken. I knew that the betrayal would get even worse, but I had to be strong.
“W…With who? I-I…” I interrupted her. I knew that she couldn’t find the words anyway. I took another deep breath, and she looked at me.
“It’s with Andrea, Mom.” Her eyes widened, and she just stared at me, blankly. The color left her face, and she swallowed. She looked down at her hands, and played with them a little.
“How long has this been going on?” She asked, without looking at me.
“A year and four months.”
“How, umm…so, does this mean you like women?”
“Yes, Mom. I’m a lesbian, and I love Andrea with all of my heart.” Her hands clenched into fists, but then they relaxed. Anxiety rose through my body, as I could see she wasn’t accepting it. And then, she shocked me.
She looked at me with tears in her eyes, and came over to my lonely couch to sit next to me, where she tightly wrapped me in her arms. She was crying. I slowly hugged her back, and the pain of making my mother cry broke my heart to pieces.
“Thank you.” She whispered in my ear. I just barely gasped, and felt my eyes grow wider. She pulled away from me to look at me with her tear-filled eyes.
“Thank you for telling me.” She muttered again. The pain in my heart warmed to relief.
“I’ve wanted to tell you for so long, but I was so afraid you wouldn’t accept me. I mean, you hear stories about parents putting their kids through torturous programs to-” She held a finger to my lips to quiet me.
“Me too.” She said, and a tear rolled down her face.
And those two words rang in my head for the rest of my lifetime. ‘Me too.’ They meant my mother’s acceptance, but also her ability to relate. I did not have to keep Andrea and I a secret, and it wasn’t even a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ kind of situation either.
I’m her daughter. I’m a lesbian, who is in love with the girl who she always thought was just my best friend. Yet, I tortured myself through dating several guys out of fear that she would not accept me.
She is my mother. She divorced my dad because of lesbianism, and has stayed single for years on end out of fear that I would not accept her.
That ‘me too’ has saved us both. We don’t have to lie or pretend anymore, and we can live full lives, being completely and utterly happy for each other along the way.
-xLLSx-
(via nikkay27)
