After The Rain

After The Rain

After the Rain
The most difficult part of any journey is the first step. To get up and make the nerve-wracking, first move. You have to put your insecurities and doubts on hold for just a moment and take the necessary risk. This is my story; this is how my journey began.   I remember the morning so clearly. I awoke to Februarys’ chill, crisp air and lay in bed torn between what to do. I finally managed to induce myself that I had to tell them, I had to stop living a lie. I rolled over onto my back and hesitated for just a moment before gradually throwing off the cocoon of blankets and crawling out of the comfort and security of my beloved bed.   As I got dressed I could hear the distant sizzle of bacon and eggs being cooked, and with my stomach grumbling, I made my way to the kitchen.  
Paranoia flooded my brain and I was sure my parents suspected something was up as I sat down in my regular spot; suddenly not so hungry. “Son, what is it? What’s that devious look for?” demanded my father, mistaking my upmost terror for slyness. I procrastinated for a while, tearing my breakfast to bits before looking up at my parents. I had waited so long to tell them how I feel, spent many sleepless nights in constant worry over how they’d react, but finally I was going to share my secret. I took one last, dramatic breath and then began. “Well, there’s something I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, it’s been eating me up, I can’t keep it inside any longer.” I paused, trying to find the right words while my parents looked at me questioningly. “I’m homosexual”, I barely managed to choke out. Instantaneously I felt my face flush to a deep shade of red and I looked down avoiding the blaring gaze of my awestruck parents.                                                                                                                                                       After a few moments taken to process my outburst, my worst nightmares were confirmed. “A poofter? My own son; a...