A Time for Love
Chapter 4
Sitting and waiting for something to happen is one of the most nerve racking things that I have been through. I don’t want to think about what is about to happen. I don’t want to think about what they are going to say, or what they are going to do. I grabbed my journal. I didn’t open it. I just wanted to hold it
in my hands. This book is supposed to be a place where I can write my fears, pains, and even the illusions of happiness in my life. They are supposed to go in and stay in there until I choose. Yet, it has done the opposite. This book is causing more pain than it is worth. Because I wrote these feelings down, I’m now going to have the world’s hardest conversation. Not just for me. What I’m about to tell my parents is going to be just as hard for them as it is going to be for me. They are not going to want to hear it, as much as I’m don’t want to say it.
“Are you ready to talk now?”, asked my mom. I looked up at both of my parents standing in my doorway.
“As ready as I’m going to get.”
I remained on my bed, while my dad pulled two dining room chairs into my room. They sat down and looked at me. I decided I was going to let them ask the questions because I don’t want to give too much away. Instead of bombarding me with questions, they sat there like statues.
“Do you want to tell us what’s going on?” my dad asked.
“Well, you’re the one’s who want to talk, so I figure you can start.”
“Ok. Sarah called and told us what you wrote.”
“Yeah, she read it in my journal. My personal journal.” I snapped back.
“It doesn’t matter.” My mom said.
“What? I have every right to keep my sexuality and feelings private. If I wanted you to know, then I would have told you. Since I didn’t, I don’t see why we are even talking about it.” I screamed.
I’m not sure why I’m yelling. Maybe it was all the stress I’m under. Maybe I started yelling because Sarah forced me to do something I didn’t want to do. “Wait a second.” I thought. “Why aren’t they talking?”
My mom and dad were looking at each other. They both looked like they just saw a ghost. They should be saying something right now. They should be either screaming at me for being a freak, or comforting me. I thought so for a second to try and figure out why they were mute. Then I realized what I said to them. I just came out to my parents. Sarah didn’t tell them. I was worrying about nothing, and now I just told my biggest secret to my parents. Yet, I didn’t get the reaction that I was expecting. I didn’t get a reaction at all.
“Ok, will one of you please say something?” I finally said to break the silence.
“Did you just say you were gay?” my dad asked with a little confusion in his voice.
“Yes I did.” I swallowed hard.
“You’re not a homo. You just haven’t found the right girl yet.” My dad said.
“I think I would know if I am or not.”
“Maybe this is just a phase you’re going through. I’m sure it will pass,” interjected my mom.
“It’s not a phase. As much as I would like it to be, it’s not. This is who I am.”
“So, you are choosing to live your life this way?”
“No, it’s not a choice. Why would I choose to live my life this way? Sarah probably told you everything that she read. How I hate my life. How I’m scared of my friends and family finding out about me. Why would I choose that?” I said as tears started to fill my eyes.
“You are not trying not to be this way. All you have been doing is hiding. You have to work at it. You are not gay, Justin. You just have to believe it yourself. First thing tomorrow morning we are going to take you to get some help,” my mom said. Then they both stood up and left.
I opened my mouth to argue, but shut it before any words could flow out. I’m not sure what I expected when my parents found out, but I was not expecting that. Mostly I thought they were going to yell, but they didn’t. They voiced their opinions, and that was it. There was no arguing. There was no point in it. What my parents say goes. I may not like it, but I don’t have a choice.
Sitting alone in my room gave me time to sit and reflect on the events from the past two days. So much had happened. Too much had happened. My mind is over whelmed right now. I feel the urge to jump for joy, but can only weep. I feel happy but can only show sorrow. I’m all mixed up, with no one to help sort me out. So far, no one wants to help me be me. My family wants to change me. The boy I have a crush on wants to date me but can’t.
I am only asking for one person; one person to stand there with me and not care who or what I am. I need to be able to not care what people think. The problem is that I care too much. I care about other people and what they think and how they feel. I don’t care about the one person that truly matters in all of this mess: me. It is one thing to say that I don’t care; it is another to actually live that way. I’m not even sure I can do that.
With all this going through me, one thought stuck out. It’s a simple one, but at the same time, it’s a hard one to comprehend. I’m starting to wish Tucker hadn’t shown up on the bridge. I wouldn’t have to worry about anything anymore. I wouldn’t have to care.
I laid down on my bed, buried my face in my pillow, and screamed. Once the first one came out, I couldn’t stop. Scream after scream erupted from my mouth out into my pillow. Along with the screams, tears started to soak the fabric around my face. I started to slowly drift into unconsciousness. The screaming and crying wore me out, so it was easier to slip into that state of bliss. My mind began to clear and drain of all rational thought. Then, finally, and not soon enough, everything shut off and I was out.
I woke up to my mom shaking me. I was told to put on nice clothes. I wasn’t allowed to wear my normal clothes. My thought was that if I am going to see someone that is supposed to help, then why wasn’t I allowed to show him or her how I feel. My clothes are a reflection of how I feel. The black signifies the dark thoughts that run through my mind every day. If there is any color other than black on anything that I wear, then it is to show that I am not devoid of all feeling. I still feel everything, even if all I show is pain.
I picked the nicest clothes I could. Of course everything was still black, but they were dress clothes. I went to the bathroom to take a shower. I got undressed and got under the water. With the bitter cold water hitting my skin, I started to cry again.
My fears about coming out are coming true. By the reaction I got from my parents, I know that I have lost them. When they realize that they cannot change me, they are going to erase me from their lives. I guess I need to prepare myself for that. But how does one do that? How can someone imagine their life without their parents, especially someone my age? I’ve depended on them for everything. I don’t know if I am able to live my life without them there.
I turned off the water, dried myself off, got out of the tub and got dressed. Once I was done getting ready, I went out to the kitchen. My mom and dad were sitting at the table, each with a cup of coffee in hand.
“Are you ready to go? I don’t want to be late.” My dad asked.
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“I thought I asked you to wear something other than black.” My mom said.
“You said nice clothes. I don’t own anything nice that isn’t black. You should know; you bought them for me.”
“Fine. We don’t have time for you to change. We will go shopping for new clothes after the appointment.”
All I could do was sigh; I didn’t have choice. If I want any chance of having my family after all this is said and done, I have to do what she says.
We went out to the car and headed off to see the doctor who is going to cure me of my sickness. I wish this was a sickness that could be cured. If that were the case, then I would have nothing to worry about. I would gladly do whatever treatment they needed me to do, if I can come out on the other side with a family that loves me for me. I would be able to live a normal life. I wouldn’t have to worry about living a secret life. But there is no cure for what I have, because what I have is not an illness. It is a part of what makes me, me.
After a forty-five minute car ride, we finally pulled up to a big brick building. I looked at the front of it to try and find the name of the business. There was nothing written on it anywhere. There wasn’t even a name of a doctor that worked there.
We walked inside. My mom and I sat down on a big long couch, while my dad went up to the reception desk. I heard him say my name. The lady on the other side of the desk started typing. After a few minutes, she said that it would be about ten minutes before the doctor could see me. I looked at the clock, which was a bad idea. Once I looked over, there was nothing I could do to keep from staring at it. I tried flipping through a magazine, but after each page I glanced at it. As the second hand moved on, my mind sensed that I was watching the remainder of my life tick away. Time started to take forever. Each second took longer and longer. The only thing I could do to keep myself from jumping up and screaming was pinching my arms. With each pinch, my mind became more aware of reality; the seconds went by faster.
The phone at the reception desk rang. The lady answered, then hung up a few seconds later. She looked over and said, “Dr. Stangle will see you now”. My parents and I stood up and were lead back to an office. There were books everywhere. I think that, while I am being forced to be here, I’m going to ask the doctor if he has read all of them. In addition to the vast collection of knowledge in the office, there was a big red leather couch, and 3 black leather chairs. Dr. Stangle was sitting behind a large, dark oak desk when we entered the room. Now he was standing in front of us with an out stretched hand. I looked down at it then up to his face. Instead of shaking his hand, I took a seat in one of the chairs, crossed my legs, and folded my arms.
“Justin, stand up and say hello.”
“Look, I’m not going to play nice. I don’t want to be here. I don’t need to be here. If you want to waste your time and money on this, you can say hello.”
“Justin…” My mom started to yell at me, but Dr. Stangle cut her off.
“It’s alright. He is scared, so he is acting out.”
I’m not sure what brought on this sudden urge to rebel against everything. When we left the house, I had every intention of going along with everything. Now that I’m in the doctor’s office, and I’m looking right at him, I realized that I can’t do this. To go along with what my parents are doing is to continue to live that lie that I don’t want to live anymore. The doctor is right, however. I am scared. I’m scared that I won’t have a family or a home after this. I’m not scared about what the doctor is going to do to me.
“I would like to get started right away. I would like to talk to Justin alone for a while if that is ok.”
“Is that necessary?” my mom asked.
“Yes. Justin might have some things to say, but doesn’t want you to hear them. The room has to feel safe for him to open up,” Dr. Stangle said in a hushed voice. I think he was trying to talk low enough so that I wouldn’t hear him, but we are in a small room, so I heard him.
“OK, do you know how long it will take?”
“It will take most of the first session. If you have errands to run, now would be great time to take care of them. If we finish early, then we will give you a call.”
“Ok… Be on your best behavior.” My dad said to me.
My parents left the room and Dr. Stangle sat in one of the chairs next to me. He turned and grabbed a note pad, a pen, and a tape recorder.
“I’m going to record our talks. I want to be able to listen to them while you are away. Nobody else will ever here them. It will be the same with my notes. The only things I will ever tell your parents are what I recommend. Nothing said between the two of us will ever leave this room.
“So let’s get started. I want to get to know you. Would you mind answering some general questions for me?”
“Sure… Why not.”
“OK. In school, do you have a lot of friends?”
“No”
“They don’t have to be one word answers.”
“I know that. I chose to give you the answer that best answered your question.”
“OK. How many friends would you say you have?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never counted. I’ve never really cared how many friends I have. The friends that I have are wonderful. Why would I ever want to ruin that, buy trying to be popular. The reason I have the friends I have is because I’m not popular. Most of the kids that are popular are fake; they don’t really care about you. They care about what you have and what you can do for them. But it doesn’t matter who I’m friends with or how many I have. That’s not the reason my parents brought me here. It doesn’t even matter that I’m depressed and I want to kill myself. They are not concerned with that. They are… well, I’m not sure what they are, but the reason I’m here is because of my sexual orientation. So I would appreciate it if you stop wasting my time and ask the questions you think you need to ask so you can try and find a cure for something that doesn’t have a cure, because it is not a sickness.”
“How do you know that is the reason you are here?”
“Because last night I told my parents I’m gay. They didn’t like it. So here I am to make your life a little better.”
“So you don’t think you need to be here? You believe there is nothing wrong with you?”
“I know that I don’t need to be here because I’m gay. There is nothing wrong with that. I am the way that I was meant to be. I only wish I would have come to this realization sooner. It took me coming here to see that. There is a reason that I need to be here. But why talk about that, when my parents are not paying you to give me therapy.”
“Your parents seem to think that there is something wrong with your sexuality. How does that make you feel?”
“Honestly?”
“Of course.”
“It saddens me. I want my family to love me for who I am, but I’m not going to let how they feel run my life.”
“They only brought you here to help. Don’t you think that you owe it to them to at least try and change?”
“Like I said, I want them to love me for who I am. I will not now or ever change who I am to make someone else happy. I like guys. If you or my parents have a problem with that, then fine. I won’t live a lie anymore.”
“Ok.”
Dr. Stangle stopped talking and focused only on writing notes about what I said. I honestly don’t care what he is writing. Nothing he says or does will change me. The part that is bothering me about this whole thing is that it took my parents freaking out for me to realize I am perfect. I am who I am and I shouldn’t let anyone try and change me. Anyone that tries to change me isn’t someone I really want in my life.
“I think we are done for the day. Let’s see if your parents are waiting outside.”
He stood up and walked out into the lobby. I looked at the clock; It had been two hours. It didn’t feel like that much time had passed since we were let into the office. Dr. Stangle came back shortly with my parents close behind him. They sat down on the couch, while Dr. Stangle sat in the same chair he sat in while we were talking.
“Justin, I would like to talk to your parents alone if I could. Would you mind?”
“Yes I would in fact. You’re going to tell them what you think should happen now, and I want to hear this. I deserve to hear what you think I should do.”
“You have every right to. What I recommend is seeking outside help. I am not able to help Justin. I can only help those who think there is something wrong; Justin does not. My recommendation is a camp. It is a weeklong camp put on by the Exodus Group. The camp is called Journey into manhood.”
“What does the camp or course do?” my mom asked.
“ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Are you actually going to consider this? You would send your child away so you can force him to be a certain way.”
“What does the camp or course do?” She repeated. She acted like she didn’t even hear what I said.
“It is designed to turn gay people straight. The course takes away the desire homosexual men have towards other men. They teach them how to be real men.”
“Oh my God; so because I’m gay that means that I’m not a real man. That is the dumbest thing that I have ever heard. There is no way in Hell that I’m going to go to a place like that.”
“How much does something like that cost” My dad asked.
“There are a few different rates. You can set up a payment plan. Does your son’s well being really have a price limit?”
My parents looked at each other. They looked like they were pondering the idea of sending me to a gay conversion camp. How could they even think about this? The answer should be that they would never do this to a child, to their son.
“Are you paying attention to me…Hello?”
They said nothing.
“How can you consider this?” I said with tears starting to fill my eyes. “I’m your son. I’m the same son that you have always known. I’m still the same person; you just know something more about me. Please don’t do this.”
“Justin, stop talking. We are doing this for your well being.” My dad snapped at me.
I did as I was told. I leaned forward and buried my eyes in my hands. I could do nothing to stop the tears. They started to flow freely. Truth be told, I don’t want to stop them. They are a sign of how I feel. I’m hurt. How can they want to do this to me? How could anyone’s parents want to do this to their child? Don’t they know what they are going to put me through? Don’t they realize how much they are hurting me by doing this? But they think they are going to help me and that I will say thank you one day. They couldn’t be more wrong. If anything, this will only make me hate my parents for the rest of my life.
Dr. Stangle handed my parents all the info they would need to send me away. I felt like throwing up. The sound of hearing my parents say thank you for all the information, made me sick. They just thanked someone for ruining my life.
I stood up and walked out of the office. Dr Stangle tried to say goodbye but I ignored him. I thought about turning around, running over to him and ripping the skin from his face. If I did that, then my parents would just send me to a psyche ward somewhere in the country. Eventually they would forget about me. As for now, I will still see them when I get back.
I waited by the car until my parents came out of the building.
“Can I get dropped off at school now?” I asked as we got in the car.
“No. You’re not going back to school until you get home from camp. We are going shopping and then we need to get home so you can pack.”
“When are you sending me?”
“Tomorrow, we confirmed everything when you stormed out of the office.” Mom said harshly.
“I wasn’t going to sit there and listen to you while you made plans for me to go to a gay conversion camp. You have no clue what those places are like. You have no clue what they do to people like me. And I don’t think you care. You will do anything you can to not have a gay son, even if that means hurting me in the process.”
“That’s enough. You have never been to one. We are your parents. We know what is best for you. While you live under our roof, you will do what we say. Now, when we get home, you need to start packing. We have a list of things that you cannot take with you. I don’t think you have of anything on this list, but just to make sure.”
“Whatever” I said under my breath. I tried to say it loud enough so my parents would hear it. Either I didn’t say it loud enough or they chose not to respond.
We went to Kohl’s to buy new clothes. Instead of me picking out clothes that I might like, it was my mom telling me what I am going to wear. The only input I was allowed to have on anything, was about the size of whatever the item was.
The drive back home was spent in silence. It gave me more time to think about where my life is going. I came to the same conclusion each and every time. My life is going to Hell. That’s really all there is to it. I learned a little while ago that I should never get my hopes up about anything. Every time I do, everything comes crashing down around me. So I stopped getting my hopes up. The only thing that would ever come out of it is more heartache. My mind can only take so much before it explodes.
We pulled in the drive way. I was the first one out of the car. I went into the house and straight back to my room. I looked around at the all the stuff I had. Most of it is junk, but I keep it. These pieces of nothing are relics of a happy and joyful time long passed.
I grabbed my bag out of my closet. I looked over the list of approved clothes. Everything I was just forced to buy was on it, so that all went in the bag. Everything on the list was on there for the purpose of making it so gays don’t look sexy to all the other guys that are going to be there. All the clothes that I had before the shopping trip make me look less attractive. That is what I was going for. I didn’t want to get noticed by people. Even though that is the case, I went through what I have to try and see if I have anything that would make me look decent. I figure this will be a good place to meet people that are like me.
“What do you want for dinner? We can have anything you want.” My mom asked as I was putting all the clothes I picked out in my bag.
“I don’t want to eat anything with you.”
“Are you still mad at us?”
“How did you come to that conclusion?”
“Maybe it’s your poor attitude.”
“I have a right to be pissed off. We didn’t even talk about this. You heard that I was gay and you lost all reason. You went into auto pilot. I always thought that the worst thing that would happen when I told you I was gay would be that you would kick me out of the house. But I guess I was wrong. I would prefer that over what you are doing. I never thought that you would do this to me.”
“You have to understand that we are only doing this to help you. You are not well and you need help. We will always love you. We wouldn’t do this for you if we didn’t.”
“OK, I don’t mean to be rude, but will you leave me alone.”
“Fine, if you want to go to bed hungry, you can. That is your choice. Make sure you are awake by six-thirty. We are leaving at seven-thirty.”
She left, and again I was alone with my thoughts. Why think about this anymore? It is going to happen no matter what I say. It is time that I accept it and move on. I will just have to go on with my life after I get back. Though I’m not sure how that is going to happen. This place is not going to change who I am. My parents still won’t accept me. Tucker still won’t date me. I will come back to the same place I am now.
I put the last shirt in my bag. I got undressed and walked over to my bed. I got under the covers and went to sleep. I wanted and needed one more good night’
- loving it!
lol, only jokin i can wait 
