What is love? If we all say that love is always right, never wrong-why do we judge when someone loves someone of the same sex? Those God-loving freaks, the ones who made people be the same, no, that wasn't right. God loves everyone, even the gays and lesbians. But even so, the people who always cared what people thought of them who were that way. The ones who were scared for their life to say that they are gay, the ones who walk down the hall in their school pretending to love the "right" person when the one they really want would be the one who everyone would judge. Always just out of reach, or maybe in their reach. You'd have to have guts to come out like I did, wear those shirts like I did, especially to be the only one who did that, the only one who was out. And you'd have to be really lucky, like I was, to fall in love with someone who was gay or lesbian when you were too. But not be so lucky when you would get together, care so much about each other and have that shattered when even though you were happy, they had to keep you a secret. You're the one who has to suffer-even though you may say its fine; you always want to hold hands with her down the hallway, you always yearn for something more.
Maybe if I had come out and told people that Mandy and I were together I could have avoided what happened to us. Maybe we would have lived the life we both dreamed of across the horizon, the place I dreamed of every night-where she and I would go together. But no-our life was about as imperfect as it gets. But I don't blame Mandy for wanting to keep us a secret; I blame myself for letting her.