Chapter 56

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"Don't you just hate it when something you love gets tampered with, changed into its proper form," my grandmother notes sarcastically, walking closer to me, now standing next to me in front of the desk.

"You shouldn't hate it if it's its true self," I say, knowing we're no longer talking about the ruined picture, now in the trash bin, but my homosexuality that she still can't wrap around her mind.

"It isn't its true self. For some reason, you decided to ruin your true self, my perfect little grandson, with this abomination of a lifestyle."

"Haven't I heard that one from you before," I laugh off, trying not to let her words affect me.

"This boy will just fuck you, just like the last," she spits, referring to Calum and Michael. "Maybe he'll hit you when you're out of line like the last two. I hear you like getting beat around in your homosexual relations."

"Who'd you hear that from?" I yell angrily at the mention of Michael and I's relationship. No one knows what he's done, not fully, not completely, and I planned to keep it that way, especially from my family. Michael was a complete low point in my life, making me do and say things I still can't believe I've actually done. I was going through enough shit at the time and I still dealt with him. I still endured the pain and everything he asked of me even if I didn't want to do it at all. I didn't need my family more involved in my personal relationship problems because they couldn't help; no one could. Michael and I were in too deep to be saved from each other.

I had no clue how she knew this. The only thing that comes to mind is that my mother must've guessed or assumed. I remember clearly coming home with a red mark on the upper part of my cheek and quickly lying my ass off, trying to make something up for the mistake it was claimed to be. I loved Michael, but not in the way I love Calum. I don't think I've ever loved someone in the way I love Calum, in a way of honest love. I really did love Michael in a very twisted way, despite what I've claimed to be true, and at the time, I would've done anything to protect him. We would've done anything to protect each other, but at some point down the line, things get uncontrollable, especially when you're in too deep, way too deep, for each other's own safety.

"You shouldn't be allowed to love a man or be loved by a man. I don't know why your mother allows such things," she states, ignoring my question completely. "You're meant to love a girl. You're meant to have a fucking family, but like you do with most good things, you ruined it. You fucking ruined it, you abomination."

"That wasn't my fault. It was a fucking mistake and you know that!" I cry angrily.

"How is she, by the way? The blonde, right? Hopefully she isn't hoeing around, having miscarriages and dating closeted gay boys!" my grandmother yells, her eyes rolling inside her sockets as the white hairs on her neck begin to stand with anger at the remembrance of everything I've ever done in my lifetime that's far from the picture perfect son.

"Don't you dare fucking speak of her like that!" I demand, stopping myself from crying further.

"You were always so protective of her. Even now, it's amusing."

"You don't know what went on. You don't know how scared either of us were. You don't know how much we didn't want that to be the end result, but it fucking happens! We were young and it was a mistake. It wasn't either of our faults, so don't sit here and talk about her like she's the gum on the bottom of your shoe when she'll always be ten times a better person then you'll ever be!" I yell, holding my stance as my fingers begin to twitch at my sides.

"Yeah, and when you two broke up afterward because you suddenly decided to come out as the homosexual you've become was a mistake too, right? You never loved her, did you?"

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