"Old Friends, New morals."
When the world shifts, when its axis tilts, when your entire existence seems full of false information, what do you do? Do you stop? Do you cry? Do you hide? Do you run? Do you fight?
Perhaps, instead, you should flow.
That's what Oliver does.
The night after dinner at Aliza's house, Oliver goes to church.
The place is empty and without the usual abundance of his congregation, everything seems larger and more ominous. It's weird that the church should seem ominous because he had always seen church as calming and familiar. Church is supposed to be a sanctuary, a place you can go when nowhere seems right.
Which, quite possibly, is why he's here now.
Everything smells the same but the wooden pews have never looked more uninviting. He trails his fingers along the edges of the pews as he takes slow, measured steps toward the front. It's almost sad, like he's saying goodbye to an old friend. But he isn't saying goodbye, he remembers. He'll still come to church. He'll still believe in God.
He still has his faith.
But things are different now. Everything is more complicated, life is more muddled and now, more than anything, he wishes he could turn to God. Except...maybe, the last time he prayed for guidance, God had given it in the form of Blake, in the form of Mrs. Stockley, and in the form of Aliza's fathers. Before moving to Maryland, Oliver had always thought that, when God gave you an answer, the answer would come and show itself to you in a shower of gold and red sparks, in a fantastic display of obvious realization.
He had always hoped for something more miraculous than a guidance counselor, a potential Atheist love interest, and a couple of gay dads.
However, Oliver thinks as he takes a seat in the second pew nearest to the front, now he thinks that God's more like a teacher; he can show you the way to the tools, but you have to fix the problem yourself.
Oliver bows his head, resting his forehead on his clasped hands as he prays.
"Dear God," he begins, "I don't know if this is what you had in mind when I asked you for guidance. I don't know if the people I've spoken to were the right ones but...they were the ones I had. So I wanted to thank you for them and I wanted to thank you for giving me something when I felt like I had nothing. But I'm – I'm growing up now. I've gotta do what's right for me. I'll always love you and I'll always believe in you and have faith in you but I think – I think I have to do the rest on my own. In Jesus' name I pray, amen."
----------
When Oliver enters his room to go to sleep that night, he sees a single flower upon his pillow.
A Lily of the Valley.
He glances around the room, as if the giver of the flower might still be there. It's quite odd because he's pretty sure this isn't the season for this particular type of flower to grow naturally and who ever would put one on his pillow? Its perfect, white little bulbs are stark against his navy blue pillowcase. He's almost afraid of touching it for fear it might vanish but no, when he plucks the delicate stem from its place, it remains solid and very, very real.
He places it on his nightstand.
Oliver sleeps peacefully for the first night in what seems like ages.
----------
The constant worry in the back of Oliver's mind eases somewhat, albeit rather slowly over the next couple months.
The first weeks back at school after finding the flower on his pillow are horrible. There are days when Oliver wants to lock himself in his room and cry. He overhears boys in his class talk about how hot some girl looks and he keeps thinking, "Why can't I be normal like them?" For a long while, he desperately wishes he could change. He catches himself staring at Blake for just a few seconds too long and he immediately berates himself, chiding his own inner, sinful thoughts.
As time passes, the self-hatred wanes. Oliver begins to see his sins as mere blunders in his daily routines, small offenses against the background of an ultimately good life. It becomes easier, day by day, to accept himself for the way he is.
Blake is fantastic about it all. Oliver never says anything outright about his problems, but Blake seems to sense some sort of inner struggle and keeps silent. Oliver's sexuality becomes somewhat of a non-issue. That isn't to say they don't recognize the fact that there's something between them beyond friendship. No, in fact they recognize it completely. They simply don't act on it. While they may share long, lingering looks at one another at their lockers or over coffee, they don't voice their thoughts and Oliver is silently thankful for Blake's tact.
Also, besides praying, Oliver begins to keep a journal. He doesn't feel comfortable running to Mrs. Stockley every time he has trouble coping with these contradictory thoughts he can't quite comprehend just yet. So instead...he writes. He writes about how beautiful Blake looks and then he apologizes to God for whatever transgressions he might have committed. The apologies are painful and long, taking up more pages than his description of Blake's eyes and flawless skin. Some days, he reads over the entries and cries himself to sleep but ever so slowly, with every page, the pain subsides and the apologies become shorter in length.
His latest apology simply reads:
I'm sorry, Lord, for I am not made perfectly in your image.
But maybe I wasn't supposed to be.
He still prays every night. He still attends church with his parents. He still believes.
But he still cannot to himself that he's gay. He can't write it. He can't speak it. He won't even whisper it.
YOU ARE READING
Sins of the Flesh
RomanceI'm sorry I am not made perfectly in your image. But maybe I wasn't supposed to be. --- He still prays every night. He still attends church every Sunday. He still believes. But he still cannot tell himself that he's gay. He can't write it. He ca...
