I had always known there was something different about me. I had always wondered why, when asked if I liked any boys at school or overheard the phrase, "That's so straight!", I felt something rarely felt at all. It was like someone was pushing on my chest. My throat dried up. Words could not form and, no matter how hard I tried, by the time this feeling went away the moment had past. I felt hopeless. I would lie in bed at night thinking for hours on end about what was wrong with me and why I couldn't just be normal. I would stay awake, unable to sleep as these thoughts chased after me. It wasn't until the crisp scent of Autumn rolled around, four years after I began to have these thoughts, that I decided it was time to confront my heterosexuality head on. For the past four years I had felt hopeless, and I was going to do the single thing that I feared most. I was going to tell my parents about my heterosexuality.