I grab my bag and throw in some extra clothes before checking my phone.
Anonymous: What're you up to?
I smile a little and type back.
Me: About to sleep over at a friend's house.
The response comes fast.
Anonymous: Oh? Who's the lucky friend?
I chuckle and reply:
Me: Kyle. We're just gonna chill. Why? Jealous?
There's a pause before the next message comes in.
Anonymous: Pfft, no. Just wondering who gets the honor of having you all to themselves tonight.
My face heats up a little, and I shake my head.
Me: Dude, you're so dramatic.
"Mom! I'm leaving!" I call out, grabbing my bag and heading toward the door.
"Be good, Stanley!" she yells back.
"I know already," I mumble, stepping outside and heading to my car. My phone buzzes again.
Anonymous: Have fun. Don't miss me too much.
I roll my eyes but smile.
Me: No promises.
I toss my phone in the passenger seat, trying to ignore how much I actually will be thinking about them.
I pull up to Kyle's house and park in the driveway. The lights inside are on, and I can hear Ike yelling about something through the window.
Typical.
Grabbing my bag, I step out of the car and walk up to the door, knocking a couple of times. A few seconds later, Kyle opens it, looking slightly disheveled.
"Dude, finally," he says, stepping aside so I can come in. "Ike's been bouncing off the walls, and my mom keeps asking if we need any 'fun snacks.'"
I shrug. "I mean, snacks don't sound bad."
Kyle rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but her idea of a 'fun snack' is hummus and celery sticks."
I laugh and set my bag down near the couch. "So, what's the plan? Video games? Movies? Talking shit about people?"
Kyle flops down onto the couch. "All of the above. But first, let's order pizza because there's no way I'm eating whatever 'fun snacks' my mom has planned."
I nod, pulling out my phone to check if the mystery guy texted me back. Nothing yet. Probably busy.
Kyle notices. "Dude, who are you texting? You've been smiling at your phone a lot lately."
I quickly lock the screen and shake my head. "No one. Just checking something."
Kyle raises an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Suspicious."
I ignore him and sit down next to him, grabbing a controller. "Just order the pizza, dude."
Kyle keeps eyeing me but finally sighs and pulls out his own phone. "Fine, fine. But I will get to the bottom of this."
I roll my eyes, but honestly? I kinda hope he doesn't.
Later, Kyle takes a huge bite of his pizza, eyes still locked on the game we're playing. "Dude, focus. You're getting your ass kicked."
I barely hear him. My mind is somewhere else—more specifically, on my phone. I check the screen again. Still nothing.
Kyle pauses the game. "Okay, what's up? You've been checking your phone like every two minutes."
I shrug, trying to play it off. "Just waiting for a text."
Kyle raises an eyebrow. "From who?"
I take a bite of my pizza to buy myself a second. "Just... someone."
Kyle smirks. "A someone? Dude, is this a thing?" He nudges me. "You can tell me, man."
I groan. "Dude, shut up. It's nothing."
Kyle gives me a knowing look but doesn't push. "Alright, alright. But if you start blushing at your phone again, I will pry."
I roll my eyes and check my phone one more time. Still no response. That's... weird. He usually texts back pretty fast. Maybe he's busy?
Still, something about it feels off.
I check my phone again, frowning as I swipe through the messages, hoping for some sort of reply. Nothing. I hate the pit in my stomach that's growing. It's stupid to care about a text this much, but I can't help it. I mean, we've been talking for a while now. Why wouldn't they respond?
Kyle leans back in his chair, clearly not fooled by how distracted I am. "Okay, I know you've been texting somebody. Spill. What's been going on?"
I glance over at him. Still, I can't help it. Something about talking to Kyle makes everything feel easier. So, I start talking.
"Well... it's just this person I've been texting. They're, like, super chill, you know? Flirty, but in a way that's not creepy. They make me feel... good, I guess. I don't know. I don't think I'd really care if they were anyone 'special,' I just... like the way they talk to me. It feels different than anyone else. Like, they actually get me."
Kyle's eyes narrow, and he crosses his arms. "So... do you like them? Like, like like them?"
I hesitate. God, I don't even want to admit it out loud, but it's like the truth is just there, sitting on the tip of my tongue. "Yeah. I do. I... I think I like them. But I don't even know who they are. And I'm just scared, you know? I could be setting myself up for disappointment."
Kyle watches me for a second, his expression unreadable. Then, he leans in a bit, his voice quiet as he asks, "But what if it's somebody unexpected?"
I look at him, brows furrowing. What does he mean by that? "What do you mean by 'unexpected'?"
Kyle shrugs. "You know, like... someone you wouldn't expect. Like, a friend, maybe?"
I don't answer right away. I just stare at the phone, tapping my finger on the screen, waiting for a reply that never comes. "I don't care," I finally say. "I just... I like the way they talk to me. How they make me feel. That's enough."
Kyle nods as a response.
I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. "They're just... different. Like, they actually listen, you know? When I talk to them, it's not just some casual conversation. It feels like they care about what I'm saying. And they're not trying to change me or anything, they just make me feel comfortable being myself."
I glance at Kyle, not really sure how much to say, but his gaze is focused on me, and I can't help but keep talking. "And, yeah, they're flirty, but it's not overwhelming. It's like they're just having fun, and it doesn't make me feel weird or pressured. Like, it feels natural."
Kyle leans back in his chair, his eyebrows raising slightly. "Wow, you really like them that much, huh?"
I nod, my stomach turning slightly with nerves. "I do. But I don't even know who they are. It's not like I have anything to go off of. All I have is these texts, and that's not a lot to go on."
Kyle's eyes soften a bit, and he gives me that reassuring smile of his. "Stan, that doesn't sound dumb. You're just... feeling something, you know? It's okay to like someone like that, even if you don't know who they are yet. Don't let the uncertainty stop you from feeling what you feel."
I let out a long exhale, a little surprised by how easily those words ease some of the tension in my chest. "I guess you're right," I say quietly. "I just hope they feel the same, you know? I don't want to be all in if they don't feel the same way."
Kyle just nods again.
I lean back against the wall, letting out a frustrated sigh. "Dude, Cartman's been so annoying about it. He literally had Heidi do some emoji analysis to figure out who's behind the account. And now he knows, but I still have no idea who it is."
Kyle raises a brow, clearly surprised. "Wait, Cartman knows?"
I nod, feeling a little irritated. "Yeah. And it's not like he's even telling me. He's keeping it all to himself, which is shocking, honestly. I thought he'd have no problem blabbing it to me, but he's acting all secretive about it."
Kyle looks a little worried, and I can't help but notice the tension in his shoulders. "That's... interesting," he says quietly, his voice almost tight.
I nod, feeling equally confused. "Yeah, I don't get it either. But what's even weirder is that he's like fangirling over me and this mystery guy. I don't even know what to make of it anymore. Yesterday, he literally passed out in the library when he found out who it was. Overreacted way too much."
Kyle's eyes flicker for just a second, and his mouth tightens slightly before he says, "Wait, did Cartman say he's gonna tell you who it is?"
I shake my head, still feeling a little annoyed. "No. He's keeping it to himself. Which, again, is just weird. Like, he's all excited and acting like it's some huge secret, but he's not spilling."
I glance at Kyle, and I swear I catch a flicker of something in his eyes—something almost... nervous. Maybe it's just me, but it feels like he knows more than he's letting on.
Kyle just nods, though, his face neutral. "Huh. That's... odd."
I continue. "Whatever, man. It's not like it really matters, right?"
Kyle's gaze shifts, and I can't help but notice the hesitation before he says, "Right. Of course."
Kyle leans back slightly, watching me carefully. "What if the guy asks you out?"
I raise a brow. "What do you mean?"
Kyle shrugs, but there's something calculated about the way he says, "Like, what if he wants to take things to the next level? You know—actually date you, but still not reveal who he is? Would you?"
I pause, caught off guard by the question. I hadn't even thought about that. Sure, I've been enjoying the flirting, and yeah, I like talking to him, but would I actually date someone without knowing who they are? That's... a lot.
"I don't know," I admit, staring down at my phone. "That'd be kinda weird, right? Dating someone and not knowing who they actually are?"
Kyle nods, but his expression is unreadable. "Yeah, but you do like him. You said it yourself. And you don't care who he is, right?"
I shift uncomfortably, realizing he's kind of backed me into a corner with my own words. "I mean... yeah, I guess? But I'd still want to know eventually. I can't just be dating some faceless dude forever."
Kyle hums in response, like he's really thinking it over. "So, if he did ask you out, would you say yes? Even if he stayed anonymous for a while?"
I hesitate. It's a tough question. On one hand, I really like talking to him. He makes me feel good, and honestly, I haven't felt this kind of excitement in a long time. But on the other hand... not knowing feels kind of risky.
"I think... I think I'd need some kind of reassurance," I say slowly, trying to piece together my thoughts. "Like, I wouldn't just agree to date a mystery person with zero idea who they are. I'd need to at least feel like I trust them."
Kyle nods again, his fingers tapping against his knee. "Makes sense."
I glance over at him, narrowing my eyes. "Dude, why are you so interested in this all of a sudden?"
He freezes for half a second before brushing it off with a laugh. "Just curious. It's an interesting situation, that's all."
I study him for a moment longer, but eventually shrug it off. "Yeah, I guess."
Kyle checks the time on his phone and stretches. "It's getting late. Wanna head to bed?"
I nod, still distracted by my phone. I haven't gotten a text back yet. Usually, he's quick to respond, but it's been a while now. Did I say something wrong? Did I make him uncomfortable?
I lay back on Kyle's bed, scrolling through our past messages, trying to figure out if I might've messed up somewhere.
Kyle swings his legs off the bed and stands up. "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick."
I nod absentmindedly, still staring at my phone screen. "Yeah, okay."
As Kyle leaves the room, I let out a frustrated sigh and refresh the chat again. Still nothing. Something about this feels off. Suddenly, my phone buzzes.
I stare at the text, my heart suddenly racing.
Anonymous: Sorry about the late text. I've been studying all day. Tests coming up. Just wanted to tell you goodnight, I love you."
I swallow hard, feeling a warmth spread across my face. I know they've said "I love you" before, but that was only once. The fact that they said it again—now? It feels different.
I'm not sure if it's because we've been talking more or if it's because I can't help but feel like there's something real between us. But the words are making me smile, even though I'm alone in Kyle's room, staring at my phone like some idiot.
I quickly type back.
Me: Goodnight, I love you too.
I pause for a second after sending it, unsure if I should've been so quick to say it back, but I can't help it. I'm feeling too much right now.
I put my phone down, trying to calm my nerves. This is all so confusing, but it feels so right.
Kyle slips into bed next to me, turning off the lamp. The room goes dark, leaving only the dim glow of the moonlight filtering through the blinds. I can hear him yawn softly, and then he mutters, "Geez, I'm tired."
I shift a little, my mind still racing from the text I just got. I can't stop thinking about it.
It feels so... different hearing those words now. From someone who isn't me, someone who doesn't even know I'm the one on the other end. I try to ignore the feeling in my chest, trying to focus on the fact that Kyle's right here, and I should just sleep.
But the moment Kyle shifts next to me, the familiar warmth of his body so close, it feels almost too easy to forget what I've been thinking about. I stare up at the ceiling, trying to shake off the mix of emotions that are swirling around in my head.
I hope the guy texts back tomorrow. I hope this isn't just some weird thing that fades away. But no matter what happens, I don't know how I could ever stop talking to him.
"Night, Stan," Kyle murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper, and I force myself to reply.
"Goodnight, Kyle."
I sigh quietly, feeling the weight of everything that's been on my mind. I glance over at Kyle, already deep in sleep next to me. His steady breathing and the way he's curled up just a little closer to me makes me feel oddly... comforted. I can't quite explain it.
Maybe it's the fact that he's always been there for me. That familiarity, the way he's always been the one to talk things out with me or just be there when I need him.
I roll over slightly, my mind still buzzing with thoughts of the anonymous guy and the "I love you" message. It's crazy, isn't it? How easily things can go from normal to completely unexpected.
I hesitate for a second, then nudge closer to Kyle, letting the warmth of his body help to calm my nerves. It feels natural, like I've done this a thousand times, even though this moment—these thoughts—feel new and confusing. But for now, I just need the comfort.
Better get some rest too. Maybe everything will make more sense in the morning.
I close my eyes, let out one last sigh, and drift off to sleep, Kyle's steady presence grounding me.
The next morning, I blink my eyes open, the soft morning light spilling through the window. I groggily check my phone, feeling the familiar excitement bubbling up in my chest as I see a message from the anonymous person.
Anonymous: Good morning <3 I hope you slept well. I'll be thinking of you today.
My heart skips a beat. There's that feeling again, like I'm walking in a dream. The way they're always so sweet, so... genuine.
I glance over at Kyle's side of the bed, noticing he's already up. I hear the faint sound of him brushing his teeth in the bathroom. It's just me, my thoughts, and this message.
I can't help but smile as I type out a quick reply, fingers moving almost instinctively.
Me: Good morning to you too. I did sleep well, thanks. Hope your day's as good as you make me feel.
I send it before I even have time to second-guess myself. It's just easier this way, with them. The way we talk, how natural it feels. Maybe I'm just overthinking things again.
I toss my phone aside and stretch, realizing it's time to get up. Kyle's probably done with his bathroom routine soon. I get out of bed and head to the bathroom, a smile still lingering on my face.
I hear Kyle's voice as he walks out of the bathroom, already dressed and looking way too awake for someone who stayed up late playing video games.
"Finally, you're up," Kyle says with a teasing grin.
I roll my eyes, not even bothering to respond. "Yeah, yeah," I mutter under my breath, stretching and walking past him into the bathroom.
I catch a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I start brushing my teeth, my mind still lingering on the text I got this morning. I'll be thinking of you today. I can't help but smile again, my heart racing just a little. This is definitely more than just some random conversation to me.
I spit and rinse, trying to shake off the feeling. But, honestly, it's hard not to get lost in it.
"Alright, I'm done," I say, grabbing the towel to dry my face.
I walk back into the room, catching Kyle's eye for a second.
I grab my stuff, throw on my jacket, and head for the door. As much as I want to stay and hang out with Kyle a little longer, my mom's already been on my case about church. I'm definitely not looking forward to it. Church on a Sunday morning is the last place I'd rather be.
"Ugh, I better head out soon," I mutter, already feeling the familiar annoyance bubbling up. "My mom wants me to go to church today. So annoying."
Kyle laughs a little, but it's one of those sympathetic laughs. He knows how much I hate it. "Good luck with that."
I shoot him a sarcastic grin. "Thanks. I'll need it."
We exchange a quick goodbye as I head out the door. "I'll see you tomorrow at school," I call back, already half-turning toward my car.
"See ya," Kyle replies with a casual wave.
I get into my car and start the engine, my mind wandering back to the messages from the anonymous person. They've been on my mind all weekend. I'm still not sure who they are, but I'm definitely starting to feel something more than just curiosity.
I pull into the driveway and just sit there for a moment, letting the engine run. I don't want to go inside, don't want to deal with church today. But eventually, I kill the engine and make my way to the door. I'm already dreading it.
As soon as I open the door, my mom greets me with a heavy sigh. "Finally, Stan. Go get dressed for church," she says, her tone firm, like she's been waiting for me to show up for hours.
I roll my eyes and groan under my breath. Church on a Sunday morning is honestly the last thing I want to deal with, but I know better than to argue. She won't let me get out of it.
"Yeah, yeah," I mutter as I walk up the stairs to my room. My feet feel like they're dragging, but I know I don't have a choice. I start pulling on some church clothes, all stiff and uncomfortable, the kind of clothes that make me wish I could just stay home and nap all day.
As I look at myself in the mirror, I can't help but feel a little off. My mind's still caught on the mystery guy from last night. The way he texted me, saying he loved me again. It feels like a lot. And it's hard to focus on anything else with my heart still racing from those words.
I sigh, brushing my hair back and reluctantly adjusting my tie. Church is gonna feel like an eternity today, but at least I can try to forget about it and think about the messages later.
I climb into the backseat of the car, trying my best to zone out. Mom starts the engine, and we head toward church. As usual, I'm stuck with this boring routine while Shelly for some reason isn't in the car.
"Wait, why doesn't Shelly have to go?" I ask, voice tinged with frustration.
Mom glances at me through the rearview mirror, her face calm but firm. "She's an adult, Stan," she says, "and she has studying to do."
"That's not fair," I mutter, crossing my arms and slumping back into the seat.
Dad, who's been quiet up until now, turns to look at me, his face a mix of annoyance and patience. "No arguing, Stan," he says, voice steady. "Behave."
I groan inwardly and let the silence stretch on between us. There's no point in arguing more. Mom's already won this one, and Dad's never one to back down. I glance out the window, watching the scenery pass by without really seeing it.
All I can think about is the texts, the way the anonymous person made me feel. I don't even know what to think anymore.
I can't help but feel irritated as I sink deeper into the backseat. "Why does she get to stay home though? That's not fair," I mumble, trying to keep my voice level but definitely not succeeding.
Mom sighs, glancing at me in the rearview mirror. "She's an adult, Stan," she says. "She can choose what she wants to do with her life. If that includes being less religious, then that's fine. It's her choice."
I roll my eyes and huff under my breath, not thrilled with that answer. "Well, I wanna be less religious then," I shoot back, though I know it won't get me anywhere.
Dad's voice cuts in, sharp and clear. "Stan, you're still a kid," he says, sounding more than a little irritated now. "Stop arguing. And behave in church."
I slump back in my seat, crossing my arms and muttering under my breath, "Yeah, yeah, whatever." I don't even bother looking out the window anymore—there's no point.
I can already tell this is gonna be one of those long, painful church services.
As the car pulls into the church parking lot, I let out a sigh of relief, glad to finally be out of the car. I stretch, feeling a little cramped from the ride, and glance around.
I spot Cartman and Kenny hanging out by the steps, talking and laughing. A small part of me actually feels better seeing them there. I glance at Mom.
"Mom, can I sit with my friends?" I ask, trying to sound casual, but I can already tell by the look on her face she might say no.
She raises an eyebrow at me, but doesn't immediately say anything. She takes a second before answering, making me hold my breath. "I guess, but you better stay focused and behave," she says, her voice stern. "No messing around in there, Stan."
I nod quickly, relieved. "I will, I promise," I say, practically rushing out of the car before she changes her mind.
I head over to Cartman and Kenny, a little smile sneaking onto my face. At least I won't have to sit through this alone.
As I walk up to Cartman and Kenny, Cartman notices me. "Hey, queer," he says, not missing the chance to poke fun.
Kenny chuckles quietly. It's almost a relief to hear him laugh—it makes things feel a little more normal, even though we're at church.
I roll my eyes, but don't let it bother me. "Let's just go sit down," I mutter, trying to avoid making this any more of a spectacle than it already is.
Cartman shrugs. "Whatever, man. Lead the way."
The three of us make our way inside, finding an empty row. We sit down together, and I sink into the pew, relieved to be with friends, but still kind of annoyed that I have to be here in the first place.
I glance at my phone quickly, hoping for a text from the mystery guy, but no luck. Maybe later. For now, I settle in and try to focus on not being completely miserable.
The church service drags on forever. I can't even remember the last time I really paid attention, but today, I decide to try. Maybe I'll actually get something out of it. The pew feels uncomfortably hard, and the sound of the preacher's voice drones on in the background, but I make an effort to focus.
I glance over at Cartman and Kenny. Cartman's slouched back in the seat, clearly uninterested, as usual. Kenny is doing the same, though his hood is pulled up, and I can barely see his face. It's like we're all just here because we have to be.
I think about how I really don't know much about the Bible. I know the basics, like Adam and Eve and Noah's Ark, but that's about it. Everyone around me seems to know what they're talking about, so I just zone out most of the time. I wonder if I'll ever actually like it, or if I'll just keep going through the motions like this.
The preacher is talking about forgiveness now. Something about how everyone has flaws and how God forgives people who truly repent. I think about that for a second. Maybe I should try to care more about what they're saying, but then again, it's hard when you're stuck in a place you don't understand.
Why does this stuff matter so much to people? People seem to treat church like it's this big, important thing. But for now, I'm just here to get through it. Maybe when I'm older, I'll get it. Maybe then, I'll care.
For now, I glance down at my phone again, hoping for a distraction. Still nothing from the mystery guy. Figures.
As the preacher continues, something catches my attention. He starts talking about the Bible's views on gay people. The words hang in the air like a weight, and I can feel my chest tightening. He goes on about how it's a sin, how the Bible condemns it. I can feel my heart start to race, and my palms are sweating.
I try to focus on the rest of the sermon, but all I can hear are those words echoing in my head. "A sin." "An abomination." I grip the pew in front of me, trying to stay calm, but it's like everything in the room is spinning. I glance around, trying to get my bearings, but all I see are people nodding along like it's all perfectly normal.
The preacher keeps quoting verses, repeating the same thing over and over. Every word feels like a punch to my stomach. Is this what people really think? Does everyone in here feel the same way?
I feel like my face is on fire, like everyone can tell. They have to know. They have to know that I'm gay. I'm so embarrassed, and I can't even escape it. It's suffocating.
I try to breathe, but it's hard. I just keep hearing those words.
Sin.
Abomination.
What if they're right? What if I'm wrong about everything? What if this is just the way I'm supposed to feel?
I glance over at Cartman and Kenny. They're not paying attention, like usual. They have no idea what I'm going through right now.
"Just breathe," I tell myself. "Just get through it. It'll be over soon."
But it's hard. It's really hard. And the more I hear those words, the more I feel like I'm suffocating, like I'll never be good enough for anything, especially not for them.
My heart drops when I hear those words, and I can feel my blood run cold.
"You shall not lie with a male as with a woman; it is an abomination."
The preacher's voice echoes in my ears, and I can't escape the words. It feels like the world is closing in on me, like I'm being suffocated under the weight of it all.
I glance around, but everyone else is nodding along, like it's just another Sunday morning sermon. But I can't think straight. All I can hear is the preacher's voice getting louder in my head, repeating the same line over and over.
Abomination.
I feel like my chest is being crushed, like there's a lump in my throat that I can't swallow. Is this true? Is everything I've been feeling wrong? Am I going to go to hell... for liking the same sex? For just being gay? Something I can't fucking control?
I grip the edge of the pew in front of me, my hands clammy and shaking. I feel dizzy, like I'm about to pass out. My mind is racing a million miles a minute, and I can't stop thinking about what the preacher just said. "They shall be put to death; their blood is upon them." The words burn in my brain, like I can't escape them, like they're being branded into my soul.
What if I'm going to hell for this? What if I'm cursed? What if, because of who I am, something bad is going to happen to me? I feel sick to my stomach, like I want to throw up. My head spins as I try to breathe, but it's hard. It's too much. Too overwhelming.
The guilt starts to creep in, heavy and suffocating. Maybe I'm a terrible person. Maybe everything I've ever believed is wrong. I've been trying to be myself, but now, with these words in my head, I don't even know who I am anymore.
I want to run out of here, to escape this feeling, but I can't. I'm stuck.
I glance down at my phone in my lap, hoping for a message from the anonymous person, hoping they'll reassure me, tell me everything's going to be okay. But I don't even want to look at my phone. What if it makes everything worse? What if I'm just messing up even more by being who I am?
I feel trapped. I don't know what to believe anymore.
My heart feels like it's going to burst out of my chest as I hear the preacher's voice again, echoing through the church. "Or do you not know that the unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God? Do not be deceived; neither the sexually immoral, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor men who practice homosexuality..."
My stomach drops. Homosexuality. He said it. Homosexuality — meaning gay. Meaning me. I feel my body go cold, like ice is running through my veins.
My hands start shaking again, and I can barely keep myself from looking around the room to make sure no one can see what I'm feeling. It's like everyone's staring at me, even though I know they're not. It's just me. It's all in my head.
"The unrighteous will not inherit the kingdom of God."
What does that mean for me? What if I'm unrighteous? What if I'm going to hell? What if everything I've been feeling is wrong, and I've just been leading myself to this moment where I'm going to lose everything?
I feel dizzy. My vision starts to blur, and I can't breathe right. My hands grip the edge of the pew, digging my fingers into the wood to try to steady myself. I look down at my phone again, but I don't even know what I'm hoping for. I want reassurance. I want someone to tell me this isn't true, that I'm not going to burn in hell for who I am, but I don't even know who I can talk to.
The preacher keeps talking, but all I can hear is the pounding of my own heartbeat in my ears, the blood rushing in my face. The air feels thick, and I can't catch my breath. I feel like I'm suffocating in my own thoughts, the weight of the sermon pressing down on me.
I want to run. I want to leave, but I'm stuck here, trapped in this moment. And the more I try to focus on something else, the more I hear the words repeating in my head.
Homosexuality.
Unrighteous.
Kingdom of God.
And I'm stuck. I can't escape. I don't know what to do.
The church service finally ends, but it feels like it's just the beginning of something that's going to eat me up inside. Everyone around me seems fine, like everything's normal. People are chatting, leaving the pews, gathering their things. But I'm sitting here, my thoughts racing, trapped in my own head.
I walk out with my parents, and they're talking, but I'm not really listening. My feet feel like they're dragging with each step. I'm just trying to make sense of everything I heard. The drive home feels like it's in slow motion, every second stretching into eternity. I don't even want to talk. I don't want to say anything. I'm trying to process what just happened, but the words keep coming back to me.
Homosexuality.
Unrighteous.
Kingdom of God.
I look out the window, trying to focus on anything other than what I'm feeling. But the thoughts keep circling. Is God mad at me? Did I do something wrong? I didn't choose this. I didn't choose to feel this way. It's not like I woke up one day and decided to be gay. It just happened. But now, it feels like there's this invisible weight on my chest, this pressure to be something I'm not.
Did I disappoint God? Will I go to hell? The preacher's words keep echoing, over and over in my mind, and I can't shake them. It's like they're following me, sticking to me like a shadow I can't outrun. Maybe I'm not good enough. Maybe I never will be.
I try to look out the window again, hoping that something outside will distract me. But everything's blurry. My thoughts are so loud in my head that I can't focus on anything else. The sound of the car on the road, my parents talking in the front seat, it's all a muffled hum, like I'm drowning in my own anxiety.
My fingers grip the seat beneath me, and I can't help but feel like I'm suffocating. Maybe this is what I deserve. Maybe this is my punishment for being... me. For feeling something that the world tells me is wrong.
But I can't help it. I like the mystery guy. I like the way he talks to me. I like how he makes me feel... cared for. Loved.
But then, God. What does this mean? What am I supposed to do now? Am I wrong for feeling this way? Should I just stop? Should I hide who I am? Should I pretend everything's fine and go back to being normal?
The more I think about it, the harder it gets to breathe. I stare out the window, watching the world pass by, and I wonder if it'll ever be okay.
The car ride back home feels endless. I'm sitting in the backseat, just staring out the window, trying to escape my thoughts. My hands are clenched in my lap, and I feel like I can't breathe, like I'm choking on my own confusion. Every turn we take, every bump in the road, feels like another reminder that I'm not okay. I don't know who I am anymore. I don't know if I'll ever be okay.
The voices in the front seat fade in and out as my mom talks about plans for the rest of the day. My dad's talking about work. It's like none of it matters. I can't stop thinking about what I heard in church, about the preacher's words. I don't know what to do with all of this. I don't know what to believe.
By the time we pull into the driveway, I feel like a shell of myself. I can't even look at my parents. I just want to disappear. I don't know if I can go on like this, feeling like I'm broken, feeling like I don't fit in anywhere.
When I get inside, I go straight to my room, shutting the door behind me. I sit on my bed and sigh.
Maybe I was never meant to be happy. Maybe I'll never be enough for anyone, not even myself.
I sigh, dropping my phone onto the bed and resting my face in my hands.
I guess it's easier to be someone I'm not than to accept who I really am.