To Be Different; Part One

To Be Different; Chapter 8

Chapter 8

August 17th, 2010

I haven't written much since July. So, this whole journal thing for me is a complete waste of time. I searched it on the internet and people say that by writing out your feelings, everything won't be so overwhelming. There's a site that I go to all the time, where people like me. Gays can go to and talk to others in discussions but I haven't tried that yet and I don't think I will.

I'm still in New York for the art program until next week and then I go back to Riverside hell. My phone's been going all crazy since the incident. Since Celeste and her elite clique caught me kissing Kane. People form Riverside High keeps sending me pictures of something I regret even now.

Kane no longer talks to me, so I'm guessing we're over. Who knew that I could have a relationship with a boy for as long as I'd been with Kane; four months. I hadn't even told Cassie about Kane, but maybe I will when I come back.

 If what the kids at RH are texting me the truth, the whole majority of kids from age ten to eighteen should know about what happened. Hopefully, by the time I go back, Cassie hasn't heard the rumors yet. I want to tell her myself, but I'm so afraid of hurting her.

 She's so in love with me, that it breaks my heart that I can't give it back. I got her a necklace, one that I saw while I was walking back to the hotel. It says "forever my friend. I love you." I don't know if that'll give her the wrong message, I don't know if I should give it to her at all.

But I owe her, so much. I'm planning on sending her the poems I wrote, the ones that she would love and think were deep and emotional. Think they were actually filled with meaning, but if I do will she know? Will she know what I have planned?

I know I hurt her then. I know I hurt her now. But if I go through with what I think is the only way to stop this from ending, will I hurt her even more?

August 25th, 2010

I'm on the plane now, heading back home. Cassie's gift is in my pocket, along with the poems I wrote. I'm pretty sure I'll give her the necklace but not the poems; not yet.

No one from Riverside has texted me lately, so I'm hoping when I come back the rumors would have stopped and I'll be able to start this year fresh and new. There is a woman staring at me, as if she can read my thoughts. I wonder who she is, but she doesn't look away so I try and avoid her eyes.

I look up and notice her bags aren't in the compartment above the seat and though it was very readable, I could make out Property of L. Romaine I wonder what the L stands for.

I can feel her eyes as I keep writing this entry down. I'm almost positive she can see right through me, I'm almost positive she knows something I don't. I look back up and catch her eye.

Her eyes are the color of warm honey and in them, I see flecks of blue. She sees I'm watching and she mouths something. Something I can't read but I try my hardest. She's mouthing the same thing over and over again, until I get it.

Don't make mistakes that'll hurt the ones you love.

August 30th, 2010

I'm home now and I just saw Cassie. She loved the present I had given her and I think she liked the fact that I held onto her as if I never wanted to let go and it was true, I didn't.

The words that L. Romaine mouthed to me still echo in my head, but I don't understand what they mean. The poems written on sheets of notebook paper feel heavy in my pocket. They aren't too long but aren't short either. I had written at least twenty and they were in an envelope that I might send anonymously to Cassie some day.

Mom and Dad are fighting again; I hear their screams from all the way up here. It isn't a secret where dad goes at night and during the day when he says he's "going to work" I've seen him go to the girl's house across the street. I don't bother confronting him, knowing that if he knows I know where he goes, he'll get me somehow.

But I know the girl across the street, she's still in high school but should be out and in college. The funny thing is, she's at least nineteen and my dad in his late forties. If all she could get was him, I find that desperate.

I hate my dad for doing that. Cheating on mom as if she's nothing. I can see how much it hurts her, how much she loves him. I wonder if he'll ever realize how much he's hurting the family now. Ever since Nate died, he hasn't been the same.

I think he blames mom for his death, even though she wasn't even there. And maybe that's why, maybe that's why he hates her and blames her so. The day of Nate's death was tragic; he was fresh out of high school and going to one of the best colleges around.

He was the only one in the family that knew what I was because well, he was in high school. And everyone knew what I was, the parents didn't acknowledge it but the children and teenagers did.

I'm not sure if he accepted what I was, but he didn't go around advertising it or making fun of me. He didn't stop the teasing but he didn't join in either. So I'm not sure if I should hate him or not.

When we got the call that told us he was in the hospital, dad rushed to go and see him. Mom was torn, not sure what to do, so I had stayed with her, comforting her best I could.

For the reason why my dad blames her is complicated, almost silly. Is it wrong to have your oldest son home for the holidays? That's what mom wanted, that's what Nate wanted to but I don't know about dad. I think he had something planned for himself and the visit was going to get in the way.

But he had accepted it, until that call. If Nate hadn't come for the holidays, the accident wouldn't have happened. If dad had did what he had planned, maybe he wouldn't have watched his own son die. Maybe everything wouldn't have been so messed up.

Mom regrets not going to the hospital with dad. I see that part of her every now and then when she walks by the fireplace and looks at the picture of Nate above it. She'll stand there for minutes just looking at it and whispering to it, as if the picture will answer her.

I wonder what she says to Nate. Does she say sorry for not going to him when he needed her? Does she tell him she regrets asking him to come for the holidays and wishes the accident never happened? I don't think she notices me anymore.

Cassie tells me to them, mom and dad, about how I'm gay. But I can't, not now, not ever. I sound like a coward but it's true. I can't tell them the truth because I know how upset mom will be and I know how angry dad can get.

To tell you the truth, my family is really screwed up. Both my parents are so controlling, when Nate and I were younger, before Cassie ever came, we used to be so afraid. Afraid of our own father really, our mother was only afraid for us.

There's this secret that I haven't told anyone, not even Cassie. One that if someone finds out, my family will truly be broken apart. I wonder if Nate ever brought that secret to his grave, I wonder if he's watching me right now, hoping nothing bad will happen.

But something bad will, something bad always happens.

~ 

Written by Christina aka BeautifulWriter224

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Copyright November 9 2010

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