I think I know why I'm mourning.
On Wednesday, I turn 26, but I still feel like I'm 16. I feel like the last decade of my life was wasted. Wasted cowering in fear, scared, not knowing what to do, where to go, to whom to turn.
I'm mourning my 10 year death, all the experiences I could have had but didn't because I was consumed with the fear of being gay. I was consumed with the determination to prove to myself that I wasn't gay, to prove to myself that I could change, to prove to myself that I could live a celibate life, to prove to myself that... that I wouldn't be missed.
And the thing is, I don't know if I've figured anything out at all.
I still don't know that I've truly accepted that I am gay. I tend to ignore it in my everyday life...
I don't think I'm completely okay with who I am.
I hate having to hide it from my nieces and nephews. I hate not being able to talk about it with my family, with my parents. I hate how it's such a huge deal, a secret, a family shame.
I hate how it will merely be endured at best, that it makes most people in my family uncomfortable. I hate it when they tell me that they're happy that I don't "act gay." I hate being afraid to dress nicely or to comb my hair a certain way or having any visible "gay traits."
I really, really, really just hate being gay right now.