Starstruck (the Idea of Always)

Woensdag 11:28

Did Lucas live in love? He loved people, of course. Kes and Jayden. Isa. His mom. He tried his best to show them that he loved them, but didn't always know how to. He told his mom he loved her. Showed his friends, trying to spend time with them, doing little things for them, remembering things they'd mentioned to him, things they didn't even remember telling him. He always hoped it was enough to show them that he loved them. They were important to him, that he was grateful for them.

Did that mean that God lives in him? That's what it's said. He didn't think he was particularly worried about God loving him (he assumed that what that meant). He was more concerned with whether or not his mother loved him.

She told him she loved him almost all the time, paired with bible verses or little emojis. It was reassuring, even with the verses that he hated so much. Even when he didn't see her often when she spent all day in bed, he spent all day in school, or when he stayed over at his friends', she sent him I love you messages. He often felt guilty that he didn't send them first.

But the verses.

The verses made the messages feel like back-handed compliments in a way. I love you with terms and conditions. I love you but...

He felt guilty that he didn't really believe in God. That he didn't pray every night the way she wanted him to. The last time he prayed was a few years ago. She had just been admitted.

Lucas remembered how it felt to be on his knees, his elbows on his bed, a please, please, please, rattling around in his head, an intangible letter to ears that would never hear it. He remembered how useless, helpless, scared he was.

The praying didn't do anything. She stayed in the hospital for months afterward, until she was stable enough to come home, and she stayed in her room, too ashamed of herself to speak to Lucas, too guilty to come out from behind her heavy door.

Lucas felt like that too sometimes.

He knew she loved him. He just worried she would stop when she found out he was gay.

That he was an abomination, that he was dirty, that he was sinful. He didn't know how he planned on telling her.

Mom, I'm gay.
Mom, I like boys.
Mom, I don't want a girlfriend.
Mom, I have a boyfriend.
Mom, I'm sorry.

Every time he tried to come out to her in his head, every time he imagined it, it ended with her telling him to repent. Or to hide it away until it didn't exist, until he could fall in love with some pretty girl and go about his life, normal.

It always ended with her not loving him.

He didn't know how she was about LGBT things; he'd ever heard her talk about it before. He'd just assumed she was homophobic from how religious she was. And based on the posts he'd seen online, the photos of posters and signs held up by strangers, posters with words like "God Abhors You," or "You're going to Hell." Words from people who didn't know anything about him other than the fact that he was gay, who didn't know anything about what it means to be gay.
      Strangers who don't know what it feels like to desperately want to hold a cute boy's hand, or kiss him on the cheek. To look at the stars with him, or have existential discussions.
      It hurt Lucas to know that all they thought they saw in him was sex. All they saw was what they wanted, and what they wanted was to see the dirty, immoral, impure parts of him, so they had an excuse to hate him. So they had an excuse to shout at him in the road, to post hateful, vile things on the internet.

And what was almost worse was seeing the casual things people said, people close to him, people he knew, who knew him. People who said things like "that's so gay," about things they didn't like, things like homework assignments or an ugly shirt. People who said things like, "What, are you a fag?" when their friend was physically affectionate. People who said things like, "No, they'll think I'm gay," because that would just be so awful. People who did things like make faces when someone was visibly gay, when they sounded gay. People who said they didn't mind gay people, they just didn't like it when they shove in their face. Lucas knew that just coming out would be shoving it in their face, while the straight couples making out in the hallways, when he made out with girls in the hallways, it was never shoving straightness in anyone's face. People who complained that every show nowadays has to have a gay character, that it was unnecessary and excessive. As though not every single show has a straight couple, or straight romance drama completely unrelated to the plot. People who thought that gayness and queerness was just sex, and not falling in love. Not feeling at home within one's own body, or feeling at home with someone else.

Lucas had told himself after realizing that he was gay that he could just not show it. Pretend all the girls he kissed were boys, pretend he liked them.

But Lucas was tired.

He didn't want to hide. He didn't want to pretend. He wanted to be able to go out with a rainbow flag and bright makeup if he decided to. He wanted to be able to hold a boy's hand while they walked on the sidewalk together, without being scared. He wanted to kiss a boy without being scared that the boy would say mean things or hurt him. He wanted to be himself without being scared of being beaten or murdered for just being.

Lucas sighed and covered his face, groaning quietly, trying to shut himself up.

When it was unsuccessful, he reached to the floor and pulled out a pair of earbuds. He plugged them into his phone and pulled up his music app, pressing play on the loudest song he had saved.

And he closed his eyes again.