The Troyler Wedding

Chapter 3- The Memory

*Tylers POV*

I really had no idea what to do about this whole "invite my dad to the wedding" thing. I just can't imagine him saying yes. His idea of me was a guy who liked to fuck other guys. But thats not what it is at all. I had always wished I had a father who didn't care what sexuality I was, or what color my hair was dyed, but just loved me for who I am. Luckily, my stepfather did accept me. I figured that if I had him, who needs a biological father? A homophobic, bitchy biological father? Not me.

My mom seemed to think it might be a good idea to invite my father to the wedding, and I only prayed that Troye felt the opposite. I didn't need to go who-knows-where to find and convince him to come and watch me marry a man. I didn't need him to sulk and watch as I kissed the guy of my dreams, as he muttered all the things I could be doing with my life if I wasn't gay. i didn't want him to come up to me and say "Tyler, you didn't have to do this. I could have gotten you treatment. I could have gotten you the things you need to get over this." No. He just doesn't understand. I hadn't seen him in years, but I am forever reminded of our last meeting.

...

Walking into Quiznos, a local restaurant, I frantically looked around, searching for the face I was scared to find. I saw him sitting at a booth in the back, his head looking down. Cautiously, I walked over, my head spinning with all the things he could possibly bring up. When I stood next to the seat he was in, he looked up, eyes looking sad and tired, and a frown that I had never seen before.

"Tyler," he said with his deep voice. "Sit down." Unwillingly, I sat down so we were facing each other. He began speaking immediatly, without even letting me say hello. "Someone in my church found your Myspace, Tyler." He leaned in closer. "Are you...gay?" He seemed ashamed to say the word, like it was illegal.

I slowly nodded. "Yes."

He leaned back and shook his head. He took a deep breath and said quietly, "Tyler, you don't have to do this." At first I was confused, my mind a jumble of thoughts and predictions, and he pushed on. "I don't know what the heck this is. I don't know. It's probably your mom and step-dad's fault. they raised you the wrong way! What the hell were they thinking?!" Before I could protest, he quickly suggested another idea. "It's just a phase! You just want attention and this is the way you're doing it! Deciding to like men. How did I not see it before? Tyler this is not necessary. It's a sin. God hates gays. You hear me?! This is dangerous!" He kept going, but all I could do was stare into his eyes and think,

"This man is crazy." I had thoughts and emotions spreading through my mind like a wildfire. "How could he think these things?" I thought. I was interrupted with my father saying,

"Tyler, I have enough money. I have enough money to fix this problem." This has stuck with me all these years, because he said it with real care. With actual genuine concern and love. And I could not forget that this was a man I came from. A homophobic man who, though loved me, did not love who I really was.