Colors (bxb) [DISCONTINUED]

forgive and forget

"Remember, when you forgive, you heal. And when you let go, you grow."

🔵🔴⚫️⚪️🔘

The next few minutes with my father are spent in silence. I do my best to stop the flow of tears and wipe any remaining ones, but that's easier said than done. He allows me to cry without judgement; I wouldn't be surprised if he was holding back tears, too.

We walk around the entire neighborhood, taking in the sights and sounds, and I use this time to replay the entire day in my head. Justin's coming out. His parents' acceptance. My mother's arrival. My coming out. Her dissension. My father's arrival. My breaking point. My coming out pt. 2. My father's regretful confessions.

It's all too much for one day. I don't understand how I've made it this far. I truly don't. If I could, I'd go home and crawl into bed and maybe never get out. But I have a feeling that there's something else I need to do . . .

Soon enough, we make it back to my house. We walk inside, and there's nobody waiting for us in the front room. I can hear Kloe's TV blasting in her room, indicating that she's probably lamenting inside. I suspect that my mother is in her own room, probably reflecting on the events of today, probably seeing the error of her ways and the hopelessness of what she wants. No matter what she does, I'm not going to magically turn straight. The best that she can do is throw me back into the closet — and I just don't see myself letting that happen again.

Or she can throw you out. What if that happens? Will you really be able to handle that, Kris?

"I'll keep in touch," my father says, thankfully cutting me out of those dangerous thoughts. "I won't let your mother do anything drastic. I promise. I'll talk to her. She'll come around."

He reaches to ruffle my hair. Maybe realizing that we're not that close yet, he changes direction at the last second and squeezes my shoulder. Even though I'm emotionally drained, I find the power in me to smile.

My father leaves soon after that. My mother doesn't come out of hiding at the sound of the door closing, and neither does Kloe. Realizing that I'm finally alone and left with a small moment of peace, a weird feeling of serenity washes over me. I'm out of the closet, I'm on good terms with my father . . . and I have a boyfriend, who just so happens to be the love of my life. The world is still spinning. I'm still breathing. I'm gay — and I'm okay. For now, I'm okay.

I didn't think that I'd be allowed to feel okay after the big reveal.

There are still multiple problems, obviously, and multiple more things that I need to do . . . but I'm choosing to focus on the positive, because that's what's going to keep me alive. If I don't allow myself a little peace, I'm never going to make it through these next few days. I'm well aware that these next days are going to be what makes or breaks me — and I don't want to be broken.

I don't want to be broken anymore.

I'm not going to be broken anymore.

🔵🔴⚫️⚪️🔘

Almost as soon as I go into my room and curl into the covers of my bed, I call Justin. I tell him everything, from the tense car ride to my father's awkward shoulder squeeze. It feels good to impart everything to him; I'm not used to telling people about the ups-and-downs of my life, but I can definitely get used to it. After the words are forced out of my body and sprayed the air, I feel . . . emptier, but better.

"Seriously?" Justin says after I finish, his voice stricken in shock. "That's . . . That's crazy, Kris."

"I know," I say, nodding despite him not being able to see me. If I had an IPhone, we'd be able to FaceTime . . . but because I'm cursed to forever wield this Nokia, that won't be happening.