Blinded by Color

Chapter 12 Jerimiah

I am loving California! San Francisco is everything I have dreamed of and more. Keith and I landed an apartment in the bay area, and we walk everywhere. We have yet to need a car with the BART system in place here. Life is beautiful. We've visited Alcatraz and Treasure Island; we hang out at Pier 39 and go for hikes. The beaches are beautiful, and the people are incredible here. No one judges us for being a rainbow couple. We can hold hands in public and hang out at gay bars. It's the most amazing experience ever.

I landed a job working for Twitter as a customer service agent, and Keith took a job as a lifeguard. Together, we make decent money, and the best part is we spend every weekend at the beach, and I sit right by his lifeguard stand and spend his whole shift with him. We have already met several other gay couples who have invited us out, and we are considering a housewarming party for our new place. This has been a journey, and my twentieth birthday is coming up, and I want to celebrate in a big way. Keith is older than me, and he takes great care of me, so I am sure he has something extravagant planned. I can't wait to find out what it is.

I haven't even checked in at home because I already know how the conversation will go. Kay will blab on about her boring life of working at the diner and tell me about how Mom has gotten worse since I left, and I should call her blah blah. I actually feel free and like myself for the first time ever in my life. I never had a coming-out party in Lutz, and if I tried, it would have been shut down by my uncles. They seem to rule not only the town but everyone in it. That place was going to be the death of me. I was living a lie and hiding behind a façade of mixed emotions. I felt trapped and suffocated, and every day, I wanted to kill myself. If I hadn't met Keith when I did, I might not be here today. I don't expect everyone to understand my struggles or my fears. I know a lot of close-minded people think I can just turn this off like a faucet. Wake up tomorrow and not be gay, marry a woman, and have babies. Live a life that is pleasing to God and others. I tried, though, and I was miserable. I felt like I couldn't bear the person I was becoming because it was for someone else's pleasure. I had to live for myself, and although I am young, I know this is what I wanted. This is what feels right.

I saw a text from my sister a couple of weeks ago, and I ignored it. She was super sweet like always, but that's just who Kay is. She always tries to do what's right and walk the straight and narrow. I don't know exactly when we became strangers, but I would like to think it was mutual. I feel like growing up, Kay resented the fact that Mom got worse. She decided it was unfair for her to have to raise me. I felt like a burden to her. She constantly seemed depressed and stressed out. She never had the loving, fun spirit my mom did. Not that I should have expected it since she wasn't my mom, she was my sister. The thing is, Kay changed after Dad died, and she never seemed to regain herself again. The bright light that shone around her wasn't dim; it was nonexistent. She was introverted and quiet. She stopped doing things that most kids loved. She started taking care of household duties, and by the time she was fifteen and I was eleven, she was so robotic it was as if there was nothing there but an autopilot button she used to start her day. She did the cleaning the cooking, helped with my homework, and picked up my mom from her many stumbles. She made my lunch and washed my clothes. She didn't ask how my day went or if I wanted to have a friend over; she just kept it neutral like I was her checklist.

Pack J's lunch.

Wash J's Clothes/bedding.

Make dinner.

Tell Jay to shower.

Check J's homework.

Tell him to go to bed.

Once I was checked off, she ventured to her room, and I didn't see her again till I was her morning routine. Life became very lonely. My mom was on a rocky road to AA, and my sister was trying to do everything to hold the family together while never really mourning our father, and then here I am just trying to find anyone I can confide in about my sexuality. I was never going to talk to Kay because I could tell she didn't want to be my mom. Taking on all this responsibility was far too much for her, so adding my homosexual issues was going to push her over the edge.

I learned to deal with things on my own. Keep them bottled up inside of me. I learned to let go of the image I held onto for years of the perfect mother I had. By the time I was a teenager, she had been to rehab nine times and failed all nine. I never did the normal high school thing like playing sports or going to school dances because how was that possible? I had no involvement from my mother. I could not take myself to get clothes for a dance, and even though my uncle Rodney stepped up to help out and be our father figure, I was afraid of him. He never gave me the friendliest of vibes. I found him to be tough as nails and harder on me for being a boy. He never seemed to take to me like he did Kay. I swear if I weren't a boy, he would have loved my dad being gone and him having two daughters to dote on. The thing is, in a way, I was a daughter too; I just couldn't show him that. He never would have accepted it.