A couple of years ago, when I finally had my first boyfriend, I was still inside the closet with my family (the fact that everyone in high-school and… basically anyone who knew me that didn’t have my last name is irrelevant), so when I went out on a date with my Doctor (oh yeah, didn’t mention that before, did I?) I told my mom “I’m going to Tomboy’s house after work, see you later!”
That week I “went” to Tomboy’s house at least 4 times. Everything was going fine, I actually went to her house one of those times, lucky me… my mom called me on my cell to tell me she was outside of tomboy’s house. My penis shrank so much I almost grew a vagina. That was a nasty analogy, wasn’t it? Sorry.
Sooo, anyway, I finally decided I had to tell her, didn’t wanna have to beat around the bush… no pun intended.
After the fifth date with McQueery, I came home to find my mom watching TV, she’s just sitting there with the soaps, I sit with her for a while; she noticed I wanted to tell her something, she turns off the TV, looks at me and says – What do you wanna tell me? – I really went rigid, trying to find a way of coming out gracefully… and all I can say, is that I failed miserably.
Fag: Mom, the thing is…
Mom: Yeah?
F: Well… I, mmm, well… you saw this guy and well… *inhales* thethingisthatI’vehad5dateswithhimalreadyandIreallylikehimandyeahthat’swhatIwantedtotellyou andthatmybutthurts, butthat’sbecauseI’vebeenseatingforawhile! DAMN! *hyperventilates*
M: So, what you are trying to tell me is that…
F: Yeah, I’m gay…
After a while, she finally told me this:
M: Just promise me that you’ll never wear women’s clothing, ok?
I love my mom.
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