A man lies in the centre of the plain white room, his frail body taking up a tiny amount of the already miniature room. He lies there, awaiting his partner, his lover, to enter the room through the door in front of him, and hold his hand and lend him strength in his last moments. He hears voices – angry, arguing voices – outside his room. He can only hear snatches of the conversation, but he understands. He will die alone, in this room, without anyone to hold his hand. Not even his faithful lover will be there to reassure him in his darkest moments. He will die, in this dark, empty room. There won't be anyone there for him. No one. No one at all. All because his lover of twenty-seven years, the one who'd been with him for almost his entire life, the one who'd given him so much love, was a man.
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Homophobia is wrong. It hurts everyone. Not just those who are homosexual, but also those who shun homosexual people. Slowly, it begins to harden their hearts, until they’re encased in an ice that transcends through time, creating a fear, paranoia, a prejudice against those who they consider ‘different’. Yet, deep inside, we are all people. We all have two eyes, two arms, two legs. Sure, we may have different names, origins, genders and all that, but inside, we’re all human beings. Call me naïve. Call me whatever. But one day, I hope with the bottom of my heart, that we can all be able to love whoever we wish, without having to fear prejudice or being shunned.
