Coming Out

He lights the furnace and goes back to squatting in front of it. He watches the fire grow while contemplating on what he is about to do.

I'll do this when the fire starts to die down, he thought. He looks around him. Everything is set. He eyes the pile of self-help books at the floor on his left side. On top of the books are two letters. One for his father. And one for Joey. He reaches out his letter for Joey and just stares at it. There's no need for him to reread what he had written. He knows all too well the words that he had put in that letter.

He loves Joey. Had he not met Joey, he would have done a few months ago what he is about to do now.

A few months ago, he was graduating college with top honors. He knew his father would be very happy. It was the right moment to tell his father about him. His father would definitely accept him. He returned home with his summa cum laude news and coming out news about to spill out of him, but his father greeted him first with one news of his own. His father told him of a neighbor's son being gay. His father spat out words like gay and fag with much disgust. He just sat listening to his father. He wanted to disappear right then and there.

The next morning, he met Joey. They sat together in the bus leaving his hometown. Joey was the first one to break the silence. He wanted to keep to himself yet Joey seemed too lively, and not to mention too handsome, to be ignored. He just sat listening to Joey's stories, complimenting him every now and then. Joey had to be straight because he talked about girls most of the time. Too bad, he thought. He dismissed any tempting ideas of having a good friendship (and probably having more) with Joey. Besides, he was going to leave that night. There would be no use for such things, he thought. He was surprised when Joey invited him for dinner together. He couldn't resist twinkling eyes and a smile, so he and Joey dined out at the nearest fastfood when they got off the bus early in the evening. That night, he forgot that he wanted to leave. He had found a best friend, instead. He felt life to be wonderful.

Joey puzzled him. Joey talked about girls but kept going out with him. Joey did things that made him think of Joey being bisexual, at the very least, like patting him from time to time or squeezing his hand or shoulder some other times. He never told Joey who he was, though. And he was sure that Joey never suspected. To Joey, as well as to everyone else, he was just the ordinary guy next door who kept to himself yet cool to be around with. He was planning to tell Joey, of course, after he started looking at him in a different way and suspecting him to be gay or bisexual. But he wasn't sure when he'd tell Joey, after that incident with his father.

Yesterday was the day he was going to tell Joey. The other day, Joey invited him to spend overnight at the beach. It would be the first time that they'd spend the night alone. He was excited that Joey might be gay or bisexual indeed. He practised his coming out lines as well as how he would profess his love. But instead of spending a night of love yesterday night, he spent the whole night at the beach contemplating of ways to escape his misery. Joey lashed out at homosexuality after meeting a cross-dresser who harassed him on the street when he was on his way to their meeting place. Joey, apparently, hated gays.

They can never accept me, he thought. Joey and his father would find him repulsive. But they have to know. And there's no more effective way of letting them know than by making them feel his absence.

He shifts his gaze from the letter to the waning fire in the furnace. It is time, he thought. He replaces the letter on top of the pile of gay self-help books. He reaches for the bottle of sleeping pills inside his pocket. He opens it and pours a handful of pills on his left hand. He puts all the pills in his mouth and swallows them one by one. He lies down on his side facing the fire. He closes his eyes and sobs.

In a little while, everything is silent save for the sound of the fire crackling to death.

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yipee! i finally did it! my first short story... :) and my first post in this blog. hmmm, why not a personal message for my first blog entry you ask? well i just couldn't think of anything to write. hehehe... :D