𝐃𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐆𝐚𝐲 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐭

April 23, 2016

Amir and I were sat on his bed as he poured his heart out and sobbed hysterically, his hands gripping mine firmly as if they were the only things tethering him to sanity. Today he was uncharacteristically quiet. Instead of unloading his feelings onto me, he just cried silently. I'd never seen him this broken within the span of time we've known each other. One look into his glossy, mesmerizingly blue eyes and I knew he was shattered beyond repair, all I had left was to figure out the cause.

It angered me that someone or something could damage such a kind human being. He deserves nothing but the best, but life somehow still managed to give him a glimpse of the worst--the dark, twisted cesspool known as depression. Although I could feel Allah's judgemental stare watching over me, I risked it, I ran my fingers through his blond tresses. He nuzzled into my touch, looking up at me with hopeless eyes and a broken heart, and I could feel my heart shatter all the more.

In a cracked voice, he whispered words that made me jolt, "I think I don't like girls." I remember feeling uncomfortable in that moment, wishing that I had heard him differently. I mustered out a laugh, reassuring him that he'd find the girl he loves eventually. After all, his mother had told me that his family is allowing him to find his spouse on his own as opposed to an arranged marriage. Instead of relief, I saw a tight look of pain bloom across his features, as if my words had physically hurt him. He looked distraught, as if he was thinking over what to say next.

I squeezed his hand and asked him if he was alright to which he replied with a violent, heart-wrenching sob. After a minute of gathering his feelings, I could see concentration flood his face as he made one more last ditch effort to explain his feelings to me, as if this time wasn't like the rest. As if there were no words to describe how he felt, he just felt. His piercing blue eyes stared into mine with a burning intensity, and he repeated what he said last with more force, "I. Don't. Like. Girls." The hand that lay tangled in his began to burn, it felt dirty. I felt dirty. I finally understood what he meant, and I shifted as far away as I could to avoid involving myself in a sin such as that one. I'd only heard stories of those who'd partaken in such acts, and it had never ended well.

Amir wretched out another sob at my reaction, covering his face with one hand while outstretching the other to me, as if begging me to stay. "Please, no. Please, no, Zaki, don't leave. Not now. Please, help." I can hear the haunting words of my best friend, my only friend, echoing in my mind even now, yet still, in that moment, I made the decision to run as fast as my legs would carry me. I sprinted down the stairs and through the house in a desperate attempt to reach the door. Before I could, I heard the voice of Susie echo through the kitchen--her words froze me in place. "My husband's job here only lasts two more years, so we'll be moving back home before you know it!"