Charleston Downs

Crescendo

Charlie  refused to return home, so stayed with me, living out a false idyll where I typed out work e-mails in the kitchen while he cooked up lunch. Our fantasy coupledom made us happy, it distracted us from the horror of Hailey's murder and our impossible future for long enough that we could almost forget. In our idyll everything was easy, there was no question about whether it was the right thing. It just was. I enjoyed having Charlie about the house, the soft slap of his naked feet on the floor, the eager way he gazed up when I entered the room, the beautiful sight of waking up to his perfect body. His very presence in my life made it better. His mere existence made waking up everyday worthwhile. 

One afternoon, I was typing away on my laptop while Charlie rested his head on my chest, reading the paper. He was reading an article about a religious zealot who'd spoken out about marriage, and how it should only be between a man and a woman. 

"Oh, I don't agree with that!" Charlie huffed, turning the page in disbelief.

"What is it babe?" I asked nonchalantly, peering down at my wondrous, curly haired boy.

"She says we're sinners." Charlie pointed at the woman's picture. "I don't agree." His face was a creased up scowl, furrowed brow and curled lips. I watched him carefully, surprised by his stance.

"You don't think we're sinners?" I stopped typing, giving him my full attention. He tensed up slightly, folding over his paper.

"You do?" He sat up, spinning around to face me. "Finn, do you feel like we're sinners?"

"Well, my mum always said I was wrong for acting on the feelings I had." I shrugged. 

"Finn, you can't listen to that hateful woman!" He gasped, staring me down intensely.

"It just what I've always thought." I weaseled, feeling uncomfortable.

"Do you feel like you're doing something wrong when you're with me?" Charlie pleaded.

"Of course not babe! I think you're wonderful." I meant it. Reaching out and taking his hands, holding them tight. 

"But do you feel like a bad person? Because of who you are." Charlie cored, his green eyes sparkling like dew glazed fields.

"It's not a big deal." I breathed, winded by his intensity.

"Finn, no one can tell you who you should love. No one. If they make you feel guilty about it, then they are the sinners - not us!" His voice was leaden with the weight of truth.

"You really believe that?"

"I really do. I'm not ashamed about being gay. I am gay. That's just how I am." He smiled, taller than the boy I remembered playing the piano.

"I don't think I've ever heard someone say that before." I looked down at my hands, still interlocked with his.

"Have you ever said it to yourself?" Charlie asked, his voice soothing like warm buttermilk.

"Said what?"

"That you're gay." He chimed, matter-of-factly, the words harsh like cracking glass.

"I don't think I am gay. I did really have feelings for Hailey, and Molly too I guess." I pounced, laying my confusion bare.

"So, what you're bisexual?" He asked, stunning me with his the simplicity with which he categorised me.

"I guess so... I'm bisexual." It seemed to easy, the words rolling comfortably from my tongue.

"There, you said it. That wasn't so difficult." Charlie beamed.

"I'm bisexual. I'm bisexual, and I'm not ashamed." I said the words; hoping one day, if I said them enough, I could believe them.