Footsteps

I hate when somehow my entire world comes crashing down on me in one single moment. I went to youth group tonight. Things were going fine, sorta. Gerry informed me that Jenny was, in fact, not coming to youth group because I was there. So I guess you could say the night had a negative vibe from the get-go. So during group, we all bowed our heads and prayed. Well I honestly was afriad to, because I knew what would happen. But I faced my fear and did it. And what I thought would happen, did happen. I cried. I cried hard. I cried for a long time. I don’t remember the last time I did that. I don’t really wanna get into it right now, because I’m not even sure I can. I just.. I don’t know… I felt like such a horrible person as I was praying and I thought about all the horrible, terrible things I said about religion and God. Then I started thinking about the whole Jenny situation. I cried even harder. I felt so alone, so empty. I feel like part of me has been ripped away. And to make it worse, I don’t even know why. I concluded that it was something I did and I got more upset for doing whatever it is that I did. I don’t feel like myself. I’m not sure I know who I am. “I just want to feel safe in my own skin, I just want to be happy again. I just want to feel deep in my own world, but I’m so lonely I don’t even wanna be with myself anymore.”–that about sums it up. What’s wrong with me? What did I do? I’m sorry Jenny. I’m sorry God. I’m sorry everyone. I try. I try so damn hard. And it gets me nowhere. The harder I try, the more people hate me, the more I get screwed over. Like, for instance, someone found my Physics notebook. Instead of being nice or something and letting Doc Stehn have it so that I could potentially get it back, whoever found it ripped out all of my Physics notes and then threw the book in the parking lot. I mean, what could I possible have done to deserve that? Clearly something. I’m sure it had something to do with being gay, because everything has something to do with me being gay. I lose friends because I’m gay. I make enemies with people I’ve never talked to before because I’m gay. I give everyone a reason to blame whatever I do on: I’m gay. I HATE IT! Sometimes I just don’t wanna be gay anymore. I can’t deal with all the hate and animosity that comes along with it. It’s not right to hate for that. I didn’t do anything. This isn’t my fault. I’m losing sense of purpose. I’m losing my identity. I feel like even my friends think of me as “gay”, not as “Andrew”. Well, shockingly enough, I am more than a stereotype. I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing. Somebody please come save me. I need somebody to hug me and tell me everything will be alright. And while I was sitting in the pew crying, no one did that for me. No one. I hate myself. I hate the person I am.

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