The Problems of Love

Chapter 1

Welcome to The Problems of Love. I'm Matthew and this story is about how Love can conquer anything if this is not your forte then don't read it. I claim all titles except for the actors.
Pic is of Fog
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I'm gay.

The secret of my life and the one thing that haunts me at night.

I knew I was gay since I was little but my parents didn't catch on, and I'm kinda glad they didn't. After all I live in a small town in rural Colorado called McKintrik Heights. And since this is a small town gay marriage may have been legalized that doesn't mean that I would be accepted with loving arms.

Everyone is very traditional here and very homophobic. I know from church when the preacher calls us fags. I despise the word.

This is my life a gay teen in gay-hating family in a gay-hating town. But I need to make the best of it until I can get out of here. I plan to get out of here but there is still so much I need to take care of before I leave.

My phone buzzed and I was pulled out of my own thoughts. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen to see the timer was going off to tell me to run to the pharmacy to pick up moms meds.

I didn't realize that it was so late when I looked up to see the sun dipping behind Parich, the southwestern mountain, in the tri-mountain area. There are three mountains in total that is part of our town. The Parich, the Savren, and the Juxen, the one that I'm sitting on, each about 8,000 to 9,000 feet above sea level. The town center is nestled in between the three mountains where our schools, Town Hall, library, restaurants, and our park in the center with the old willow tree in the center of the park. It's said it five hundred years old.

Mostly the mountains are covered in thick green forest except for the tops, which are covered in snow and ice. So yeah, it's pretty cold here some nights.

I started down the mountain and through the Juxen houses which were a bit fancier and larger than my house in the Savren section. The Parich houses are a little rundown but are almost as old as the Willow. The town has been around since 1794. It was a slaver camp in 1823 and has become a real town, you know without racism. At least public racism, again this town is very conservative.

I walked into the outskirts of the Center and walked to where the pharmacy is. It's sad how much I have to come here to pick up moms medicine it's not like my brother would anyway, and my Dad is in Seattle so yeah.

I opened the door to the pharmacy to see Dr. Breanhert looking at files through his crooked spectacles. That man I swear is old than the tree itself.

"Ah, Fog, here for your mother medicine?" He asked in his British accent. "Yes, sir, I have to grab this then go to the store." I replied.

"Well, when you go to the store, the Delhi is selling fresh ram for half price a pound, you might think about getting for your poor mother." He stated while typing into a computer. "Absolutely, ram sounds delish right now."

"You know you really need a hair cut," he said while bagging the medicine. "It's downright awful looking."

"I'll think about it sir."

"Sir?! You are too polite for your own good you know that?" "My mom always did say I had an old soul."

He chuckled heartily. "Indeed, here you are young man."

I grabbed the bag and pulled out my wallet.

"I don't think so." He he said.

"I have to pay you."

"No you don't now bigger off."

He shut his window and locked so I couldn't give him the money. I sighed wondering why this man is always so nice to me. I used to think it was because of pity about my mother. But then I began to see that it was genuine.