Layers

A true story. Painfully true.

 

Standing backstage, with cartoons in my head, I snickered as Eric whispered his joke to me. I didn't really care about anything in musical theatre class, that is until, I met him. I remember overhearing him say “it” was changeable, that “it” was about mindset. Deep down, I don't think I ever believed him. But he gave me hope. He was a fun guy to be around, a carefree kind of person. And that meant you could say whatever you needed to, and it would be okay. But it wasn't okay.

From our concealed position, we watched Jan performing. Jan made me nervous. Once, at a coffee shop, he told me that I was like a brother to him. Like the coffee, that was bittersweet. I felt wrong for seeing him differently than he saw me. He also talked about the kind of girls he liked, and when he asked me, I felt bugs under my skin. I really wasn't ready for things like that.

I saw the world through a TV screen. Everyone was just some sort of cartoon cliche. The joking trouble maker, the stern, tough, gritty teenager. That's all I really thought of my so called friends. Simple, two dimensional, what was seen at first glance.

Eric and I snuck even deeper away, into the storage room, which was a cold, blinding white island, with thick cement seas surrounding us. No one could hear us there. I waited for him to speak, to make me laugh. An awkward blanket of silence covered us, as I eyed the props around me, and laughed at how clearly fake they were. Even with paint on, the elements they were composed of were crystal clear. I stared at Eric as though he were a prop. I thought I knew the simple elements he was composed of. Then, he surprised me by revealing layers.

“Sometimes, I have bad dreams”

…

I flashed him a confused look, and dodged his words. I gave him no opening to reveal those layers, but brushed it off with humor. The cold wore on my skin, and I swallowed, not moving, because I didn't know which way to move. I tried to forget the serious look on his face for the rest of the day, and when I got home I retreated into cartoons, without thinking of the writers, animators, and voice actors behind them. I just watched and escaped, away from that white island...

A day later, back in the storage room. Panic. I was so scared. My heart was in my head; I couldn't think straight. What had I just told him? Why did I do that? Eric slowly backed away from me, lips tight, eyes wide, staring at me in...fear? Why fear? That feeling backstage bellowed up inside me. Then, when he had left, I hated him. I swallowed, took a deep breath, and once again took the most childish course of action. Just pretend. Pretend like nothing is wrong. But I couldn't. My brain was lightning and my skin, pale thunderclouds. And that day when mom was driving me home she could tell. I was planning what to do when I got home. I would lock the door, close the blinds, and turn the AC up to full. I would forget about today's storm. Look away and watch cartoons.

But I never got that chance, because Mom knew something was wrong. And once a fish bites, she never lets it go. So she kept prying and prying and just as we were about to reach the house, I snapped. I told her what had happened. My face was pink, as tears of shame rolled down it. I told her. The same words as with Eric.

“I’m bisexual.”

Why did I say that?  Because I’m not bisexual; I'm gay, and I knew it.

“That's okay”. Mom’s words provided temporary relief.

That night I talked to my dad on the phone, and he helped me dig through the layers until finally I faced the truth. “I’m gay”. I felt like I could breathe again.

Now, I look at the people around me in the halls, and I am afraid. Because they too are fragile, and they have layers. Secrets, lies, feelings, pasts, and millions of other variables. I see their  faces, and hear their voices, and realize  that is just the surface, the cliche. I am terrified, but  on that day I told Eric, I promised myself something. I promised myself I would listen. I would listen because that's what  we all need. Never again would there be another Eric. Never again would I dodge “I have bad dreams.”

 

Today, I still watch cartoons, but now, I think about the things behind the show that make it what it is.I look up at the sky, away from the TV screen. The rain is beautiful.

Author's Note

This really happened to me. I did this, and Im not proud. I would like to apologize to anyone out there who is bisexual. I know now that it isn't any easer. Please forgive me, I was very uneducated and afraid.

Reviews

[Bmh09]

I enjoyed your story. I liked how you didn't tell your secret in the middle which kept me guessing. It was suspenseful and had an unexpected twist at the end. Kudos!