Final draft of journal 2

                                                           Ignoring Reality
            The way the water flowed so beautifully along its path no matter what, made me want to be the water. It always flows, as if nothing stood in its way, free to be what it was. Standing at the bridge that overlooked the riverside, I felt comfortable by the water; it is where everything, every emotion, and every thought is taken away as I pour my soul and mind out to it. As I stand over the bridge peering into the water, I cannot help but feel its acceptance as if it is ready for anything that may fall into it.
            As I woke up in bed and realized these dreams, these unusual dreams and feelings, wouldn’t go, I sat on the bedside and pulled my hair. Crying myself to sleep yet again, I began to doubt who I really was. It was a feeling I could not shake. Because of these ideas and feelings, everyday was a constant struggle. There was constant battering at home, constant hate against them, against gays. I knew I would tell them this secret but the result would not be good. I could fake it so well, to be like them and not be my true self. However, as each day went on, it felt as if ignoring it did not help. I try to act like them but it feels impossible.
My family did not pay notice to my emotional and mental state of destruction. I couldn’t feel up to par with the standards placed and I know I never can, no matter how hard I try. Crumbling and falling apart with each step I took, I thought that maybe I was thinking too much about it.
           My mom returned from being at church all day and volunteering. She had an expression that I could not read, as if emotionless. As she entered the room, she brought along a glass of water and like a prisoner, locked me in my very own room. "Something is going on, I can tell. I won't leave until I know what it is. Now talk to me, what is it?" she asked. "What are you talking about?" she was worried about my supposed changes. She noticed that I was not the same as her friends' kids. The way I dressed, the way I spoke, the way I acted apparently did not reflect the family nor community. I did not why she even cared, because I was just being who I am. Everyone is different. She saw clear indications that something is bothering me, as she even noticed that I would be down sometimes.
            After her interrogation and feeling as if I lost myself in constant battering from those questions, I finally told her. I said that I was different and struggling to come to terms with the fact that I am not straight, that I am gay. The color on her face drained away instantly. Her face turned away, she didn't look at me. She left me without comments or concerns instantly. Frustrated, I left the room and headed over to the river. When Mike, had gotten home from work, I was on my way home. The river always calms me down. It is where I feel as if I was at a true home. It always welcomed me with arms wide open. My mom waited for my return at the door.
"Where have you been, it's late?" she asked.
I simply said, "Out."
"You haven't been out with other... Other gay... People have you?"
"So mom, what if I have, it wouldn't change anything."
"Don't give into temptations, God is there for you."
            I walked away as she said that. It got me upset, but I felt it was probably what she felt was necessary. She says it is simple but they all have no idea what it is even like to be in my shoes.
My family is very religious, ever since Michael became part of the family. It's not like me to be religious, so I did not join in as much. When Mike had found out, I had gone to church so often to be led away from all of this. He said that whatever I ask for in prayer would be received. As if, I chose this. Why would I even choose this? Why would I choose to have my family hate me? God was not there for me through those mornings of constant prayer, constant harsh terms and hatred being thrown at me, even though I prayed relentlessly. Every morning I would wake in tears, my heart tears apart, my self-esteem and sense of worth is shot down. No one understands me. No one can accept my side. I had awoken every morning to this. When I was miserable, I bet it looked like I was getting better, when I was depressed, I wish I could crawl under a rock and sleep forever.
            I went out to school, returned home, and still found no solace in the place that should have been called my home. My new home was on the bridge by the river because that's where no one said anything to me. I went to the city looking for an escape. As I drove home, I was always welcomed by religious cantering and malicious faces that made me unwelcome at heart. Nothing I do seems to make a difference. Who was I? Well, I was no one. To think, I could have confided in my own family, but I thought wrong.
             As another day began to end, I drove home and again, the constant bickering of what was going to happen to me continued. I had to pray harder, try harder and just welcomed God into my life. I wondered if I'll ever be free again. After a few months of dealing with this, I felt that I needed time to think things thoroughly.
            Thankfully, I went away to my cousin's house as she had invited me. I had gone there for the summer. During that time, I had met someone named Ashley. We fell in love and soon I moved in with her. She made me feel as if I belonged. She accepted me and respected me. She was there for me, and always made me smile. I loved her. The dreaded time soon came when I had to move home again. I hated the idea of coming home. I was not welcomed. I was never accepted. I keep telling myself that it's going to be different soon, but it's not. My mother had super imposed religion on me so much that I felt as if the guilt was getting to me. It drowned me and I couldn't swim to the surface. She felt like she could "cure" me of my "illness" or "disease." I do not understand what to do. I loved to be myself, but I could have to be straighter for my parents.
I told my parents, "Ashley is a great girl, she treats me right."
"Your family treats you right. God treats you right."
"Kindness and love is what it is supposed to be. I don't see that love from you."
"God will heal you. If only you would try harder."
"Nothing is wrong with me. Why won't you accept me?“I will not. He can cure you. “Promise me you'll keep trying."
"I'm sorry I'm not the perfect little kid you've always wanted me to be," I said as I left back outside.
             I'm in so much pain. It hurts so badly. I'm scared and alone here. I am damned by God and therefore headed into the fiery pits of hell. When I went back to see Ashley, I could not kiss her, I did not feel like I had before. It was difficult. Every time I saw her, or even god forbid kiss her or something else, I felt as if, mother and father's constant barraging was repeated over, and over, in my head. It would just never go away. No matter what I had done, it would not leave me alone. God couldn't heal me. I felt like I needed to talk to Ash, to tell her about all of this, but she was nowhere to be seen as I fell apart. I had nowhere to go, and no one to talk with. My parents' image to others is more important than my happiness. I could not be with Ashley without thinking about or seeing my parents' image.  
             I drove my way to the bridge by the river. As I stood there in the dark, by the bridge, no one was here for me when I really needed someone. I walked out onto the ledge of the bridge. I stood there recalling my memories and all I could see was my parents battling my thoughts. I just wanted to be close to my family again like before. I feel as if I've slipped up and can't seem to get back. As i was about to let the water carry me along, a hand grabbed a hold of me. I turned to see Ashley there on the ledge. She pulled me into a long embracing hug. She helped me realize that I needed only one person to believe in me. Without her, I saw I would be miserable at best. Climbing off the ledge and onto the road, I walked hand in hand with her. My new goal now, is to achieve a sense of pride, and worth as a human being. As we drive past the bridge, I see its majestic beauty. I see it's unstoppable force. I can see right through it as I see myself.