And it hits me like a punch in the gut, a smack in the face, a ton of bricks, insert another cliche here. 

She’s sitting on my bed and she just told me the six words I hear in some shape or form every day of my life. “I think homosexuality is a sin.” And I feel how broken I am to her. I feel the weight of imposed depravity pushing me through the bed and the floor and the earth and I am trying not to let it bury me.

She leaves and I find it difficult to breathe so I do breathing exercises to ground myself. Old tricks I picked up when I couldn’t figure out why I was so incredibly unhappy and anxious but tricks I hadn’t needed since I discovered the root of the root, the bud of the bud. 

This journey has been, in a word, unpredictable. It has left me reeling in the reality of how much people can show ignorance and hate but then I am overwhelmed by how love can break through all that. 

Because even though I feel sad, I do not feel alone. And that is leaps and bounds from where I started. 

“You are winning, because you are loved for who you are and you are brave enough to see that. But if I could, i would make it different. I’m sorry.” 

That’s the kind of text you get from someone who has walked with you from mile one and knows how incredibly difficult it is to be on  your millionth mile and still feel punches in the gut. 

And that’s who I will choose to hear. 


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