I would run as a little boy into my closet with my pillow in hand. I didn't want anyone else to hear the screams of the little boy who seemed to be happy. To everyone else he was the oldest, always smiling and didn't meet a stranger. On the inside though he was afraid, he was alone and he was different. I would run to my closet with my pillow in hand screaming to God "FIX ME...CHANGE ME...I don't want to be this way". I felt sick, I felt disgusting and imagine a little boy 6 or 7 already hating himself because what he carried he felt made him an abomination. They say God loves us all and he does. For a time I used to think that Gods love applied to everyone else but me. If he loved me so much why did he make me so flawed? Why did he make me gay? Why did I stutter? Why did I have a gap people made fun of? Why was my family broken? Why did I feel so alone when there were so many people and other kids around me? In my closet I would just let it out. I couldn't tell anyone what I was feeling. I couldn't run and talk to someone who could explain what I was? I had to do it all alone. I had to lock myself in a box buried deep within my self in order to create a version of me that wasn't broken. I would pick things I liked about people from movies and books and made them my personality. I hated who I was so I became someone else. A better version on me. One people liked but I didn't. One people loved but I couldn't. One that girls wanted but I wouldn't let them. I was a fraud. A kid going through all this turmoil but no one even knew. I hid it so well that I even started to believe that I was okay. That God had healed me. Until I kissed a boy. I kissed a boy and my world shattered. It was like the inside of me was scratching it's way out. I had never felt more myself in that moment. They way he felt and held me. I felt seen. I didn't feel alone. I felt heard and understood. I slowly began to opne the closet door this time and not take the pillow with me but pull the little who was in there out. I started to like him. I started to understand him and see that in this world being different is okay. Those who are different are leaders and become people who chnage the world. Our differences make us who we are, our stories show others the way to redemption. I didn't have a role model in my story so in growing up I had to look in the mirror and become my own. Now, 27 years old and on my journey I believe I understand why God made me this way. The road had been hard on this walk reflecting I've understood that this life leads to a deeper conviction of self. My gay walk has shown me the beauty of the world but it has also taken me into my darkest moments. I look in the mirror today and don't see a gay man. I see a man with a troubled past who was running from himself with no guidance. When I was in my darkest hour, called saw me under a fig tree and called me by name and he said that I wasn't my problems and that I wasn't broken. That I was to be used to bring others out of darkness and into the light. Now when I go bakc to my closet I see that it was all intricately designed to turn out that way.
I continue to walk and fall but I am a new creature. Not walking by sight but my faith as a once blind man.
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Hourglass
In the heart of a merciless desert, where the scorching sun beat down upon an endless sea of sand, two souls found themselves trapped within a stark and desolate prison. They were locked in a metal box, their world reduced to a confining chamber with no exit, no hope, and no sustenance except for a single, massive canteen of water. The sun-bleached, steel walls pressed in on them, and the searing heat outside was as unrelenting as their captivity. Emir, a man of few words and many regrets, had wound up in this grim purgatory for reasons he'd rather forget. The sun had bronzed his skin to a deep, weathered tan, but it had also etched lines of weariness into his once-youthful face. He regarded the water with a sense of grim determination. To survive, he knew they had to ration it carefully. Rami, the other prisoner in this desert abyss, had a demeanor that contrasted Emir's stoic silence. He was animated and talkative, a man who saw hope even in the most dire of circumstances. His dark eyes sparkled with a glimmer of defiance, and despite their situation, he had a charming smile. Together, they had become unlikely companions in their fight for survival. The canteen of water was a cruel twist of fate, meant to test the limits of their endurance and their ability to share. Neither man knew the other's past, their stories as shrouded in mystery as the distant mirages that teased them across the desolate sands. Days turned into weeks, and their world remained unchanging—blistering days and chilling nights within the metallic confines, their hopes buoyed only by the presence of each other. They spoke of dreams and memories, sharing the fragments of their lives as a form of escape from the endless desert. As the sun dipped below the horizon one evening, Emir and Rami lay beside the canteen, their frail bodies cast in silhouette by the dying light. The water level had diminished alarmingly, a stark reminder of their impending fate. It was in this moment, in the fading warmth of the desert's embrace, that Emir turned to Rami with a look that transcended words. Rami understood. With tears glistening in his eyes, he nodded and offered a reassuring smile. They would share the last of the water, defying their cruel captors' intentions. One fateful morning, as the desert sun climbed high into the sky, Rami awoke to find Emir unconscious and breathing shallowly. Panic surged through him. With trembling hands, he raised Emir's head and offered the last drops of water from the canteen, disregarding his own dire thirst. The water, though meager, revived Emir, but it was clear that their situation was dire. They were now on the brink of losing everything, including the newfound love that had blossomed in the midst of their harsh captivity. With immense effort, Rami managed to hoist himself up, his legs wobbling from weakness. Emir watched, his eyes filled with gratitude and affection. Although their strength was waning, they couldn't bear to see the other suffer. Driven by love, Rami decided to venture outside, guided by a shimmering mirage on the horizon. He knew the risks of leaving the box, but he also understood the urgent need for water. As he stumbled through the sweltering desert, Emir remained behind, his thoughts consumed by worry for Rami's safety. The hours felt like an eternity as he waited, fearing the worst. But fate had other plans. Rami returned with a tiny, ancient oasis hidden among the dunes. The water source seemed like a miracle, a tiny pool that had somehow been overlooked by their captors. Upon return, without hesitation Rami drank from the oasis, believing it was their saving grace. But within moments, it became clear that the water was not a miracle; it was poison. Rami convulsed and fell to the ground, life slipping away from his grasp. Emir rushed to Rami's side, helpless as he watched the love of his life succumb to the poisoned water. Rami's life ended in agony, leaving Emir alone in the heart of the unforgiving desert. Out of no where the metal box began to sink in the ground as sand quickly fell through it's cracks. Emir was too stunned to care as tears fell onto his beloved. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw 3 men in fully covered suits come out from under where what was once their prison turned home. One of the men pulled out a gun shooting Emir with a dart that releasing a green substance in his blood stream. Emirs vision blurred and everything went black. Emir awoke in a room with air conditioning and windows. He was strapped to a chair and he himself was clean. A voice coming from an intercom just above his head began to speak.
By Daante Bowman6 months ago in Humans
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