Not Who You Thought (BxB Drama-Romance)

Love, Charlie

When I turned twelve my dad started leaving me alone at night. Things started to become more normal after he stopped molesting me. I made some friends in middle school. I stopped doing some of the weird shit I was doing like pissing myself for attention and smashing my head against the lockers at school when I got mad at other kids. My dad still hit me, but I could tolerate it knowing I didn't have to strip naked anymore. Things were better once I got too old for the camera and his hands.

I made this friend named Zeke when I was fifteen. He went to my church, and he was one of the kids my parents were okay with me being friends with because they thought he would be a good influence. We hung out a lot because we liked the same things. I guess he was my best friend. We played video games together and he taught me magic tricks.

Once when he slept over he started getting handsy with me when we were supposed to be sleeping. I froze up because it was like I was reliving all the stuff that my dad did to me all over again. Zeke told me he knew I was a faggot, and told me to suck his dick.

Which, I did. Several times. I never got any favors in return, but when he told me what to do it was as if I couldn't say no because I was scared. The fourth time he assaulted me my dad walked in. That's how I ended up getting sent away to conversion therapy.

I could talk about the Christian school for hours, and maybe I'll tell you everything about it one day. In conversion therapy they told me I was sexually broken, and that sodomy was a sin. They told me that most gay people died from AIDS, couldn't have children, and had higher rates of suicide and depression. Everyday me and the other kids had to pray to God to help us become heterosexual and live pure lives free of sin.

I guess it made sense to kill myself. You know I can be dramatic; maybe that's why I decided to carve the word into my arm. Sometimes I pretend it wasn't me. At school we had to do chores to help upkeep the campus, and one day when I had kitchen duty I stole a knife. I was hoping it would kill me when I carved that word into my arm. I went as deep as I could, and then while I waited for death one of my roommates found me passed out in a puddle of my own blood.

When I woke up I was in a psych ward at some shitty hospital in Utah on suicide watch. The school sent me home after that. I didn't have friends anymore when I came back to Connecticut, because I didn't try to keep them. In conversion therapy I learned I was disgusting, broken, and a sinner. I didn't see how anyone would want to be friends with someone like that.

The fall after I came home was when I saw you at the party. I didn't get invited to that party, I only went with the intention of getting inebriated and drowning myself in the heated pool. I was planning on how I would drown myself when I saw you sitting on the porch alone. Suddenly I felt something strange, which I know now was hope. I guess horniness too, if we're keeping things honest.

When I saw you at that party I didn't feel scared or ashamed. I remembered the way you smiled at me when you gave me the granola bar, and how good it made me feel. I figured you didn't remember what happened to us when we were six, because if you did you wouldn't be the person you became.

The reason I approached you was because I knew you'd be nice. If I'm being honest, I'm terrified of men and boys. You were the first person I thought might be safe for me to approach. The reason I asked if you wanted to go somewhere to be alone with me was because I didn't think you would rape me and that you'd let me set the pace. After we hooked up was the first time I didn't feel broken after doing something sexual. I felt liberated.

Being with you made me feel better than I've ever felt in my life. You were always gentle, even when we weren't in a relationship. You made me feel desirable and you paid attention to the things I liked. You never called me a faggot or made fun of the things I enjoyed. I fell in love with you almost immediately. Even when things were confusing between us, I still loved you.

Melissa asked me what I love about you. I'm supposed to tell her about the times we've had sex, but usually I end up telling her other things. I told her about the time we went to the diner and you blew the paper wrapper on the end of your straw into my face to surprise me. I told her how it got stuck in my hair and for some reason we were laughing hysterically and couldn't eat our food because we were laughing too hard. I told her about the time we baked a cake, wrote our names on it, and stuck birthday candles in the icing even though it wasn't our birthdays. I told her about how you took me to Portland and the way it felt to wake up and see you sleeping next to me. I told her about the time I made you slap me across the face like Zeke did, and that you felt so terrible after doing it that you almost cried.

Soon after the court date I'm leaving the group home and I'm getting placed with a foster family. My new family is an older woman named Anna, and another foster kid named Pearl, who's eight. I've met them a few times and they are very nice. Pearl asked me if I'd be her brother, which is kind of cute.

My case worker said I'd be a good fit for them. They know I have a boyfriend, and they said it would be alright if you visited. If you want to see me, I'd like to see you again. If not I understand why. I'll be getting my phone back tomorrow, but I'll wait to see if you call me first because I don't want to force you to talk to me.

I know I'll see you on my father's court date, and I wanted to say thank you for being a witness. I'm going to be forever thankful that you were willing to speak up. I know it won't be easy, that it's all terribly painful, and that it's going to hurt. You're one of the bravest people I know.

I love you Lucas, more than I've ever loved anyone. Sometimes I love you so much it hurts. I guess that's what love is like, right? Melissa told me that when we love people, we need to let them make decisions for themselves. I know this is a lot to handle. I know that the decision you make about our relationship might not be to stay with me.

I wanted to tell you that you don't need to understand all this. What I need from you is to accept me for who I am. I'm still the same person you met at the party. I'm still the same person you took to Portland. I'm still the same person who got iced coffee with you hundreds of times. I'm still the same person you said you loved. I'm still the same person I was before my dad raped me again and I came to your house for help. I'm still your boyfriend. I'm Charlie.

Love,

Charlie

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Updated: The Good Boy is now being uploaded, which is the companion novel to this story, entirely written from Charlie's point of view.

Author's note: this is the second to last chapter. Next chapter is going to be the final chapter (a bit of a lengthier chapter). For everyone that has read this far, THANK YOU. I never thought I would complete a whole story for wattpad.