Thank you so much for your help Becky! Chapter 6----------- “I don’t have a son.” This certain sentence has been ringing in my ears for a few days. So short but still so painful. I just can’t get it out of my head. The more I want to forget about it, the more it hurts me. No wonder it’s had such a huge effect on me – it was my own father who said that. I always get kind of weird around this time of the year, since it was his birthday two days ago. I remember how cheerful our family parties had been when I was a kid. How excited I was about giving him just the right gift (which usually I had made myself) and how happy I was to see he liked what I had given him. All the relatives and friends told us that we were the family that everyone wanted to have. Everything seemed to be so perfect then. I know now that it was everything but perfect. In a perfect family, no father disowns his son just because he’s not what he wanted him to be. Being gay is a bigger issue to get over than a simple father-son disagreement, I know that very well. Especially for him. That’s why I didn’t want to tell him and when Mom found out, I begged her to keep it a secret. I knew that sooner or later he would find out too, but I tried to play for time. I needed to find a good explanation – like there was any good explanation for being gay. I knew he would be out of his mind. I knew he would be fucking mad at me. But I never thought that he would try to make me deny myself, and even worse; I never thought that he would stop loving me. When Mom told him everything, his reaction was really not a surprise for me. I knew he would forbid me from everything; from telling anyone that I was gay, going out to clubs, but most of all – from seeing Brian. I wasn’t really frightened though, I knew that he couldn’t forbid me from doing something I really wanted to do. I‘ve always been awfully stubborn. But the night he attacked Brian something changed. I never thought he would be able to do something like that. It was like he was a stranger and not the man I’d known for all those years. That monster couldn’t be my father. I really was pissed at him and it was more of defiance than conviction when I told him I would never ever go home. And later, when he made his conditions and told me I had to live by them if I wanted to stay in his house; I was more than happy to see that shocked expression on his face when I had left with Brian. I thought to myself ‘You didn’t expect that, did you? Don’t think that I’m afraid of you, and don’t even dream about controlling my life and forcing me to be someone I am not.’ Well, I was seventeen then, and I thought that I was ready for anything. Of course I wasn’t. It doesn’t mean that I’ve regretted my decision – it was the best choice I had ever made. I was so grateful to Brian for sharing his place with me, and I was so ashamed of my father’s behavior. Brian often told me not to worry about him, because I could do pretty well without him, just like he did without his own father. He told me he didn’t want his father to be part of his life because they didn’t need each other. He said that the best thing I could do was to forget about my dad. Brian never speaks about his family and childhood but I guess it wasn’t a happy period of his life. Michael told me some things about Brian’s family and they really were terrible. No wonder he left them as soon as he could. But I know Brian better. Just because he doesn’t show his emotions, it doesn’t mean they don’t exist. When his father died he really was broken, though he would never admit it. And I think that he still thinks about him quite often. Just like me. The difference is that my father is alive. Not that it really matters – if he was dead, we wouldn’t see each other any less than we do now. When I left home I tried to convince myself that I didn’t need him anymore. But in the bottom of my heart I always hoped that one day he’d accept the person that I am. That day has never come. I met him only a few times since then but it always ended in failure. Once, when he refused to pay my tuition and another time when he wanted to convince me that I was the reason for their divorce. I almost believed him. Fortunately my mother told me a different story and I prefer her version. I’m so fucking proud of her by the way. I know how hard it was for her to accept my new life, the way I lived and of course – to accept Brian. She doesn’t just accept him now, she really likes him. And I’m so glad to see that it’s a mutual thing. She did great and I’m so thankful to her for still being a part of my life. For loving me even when I didn’t deserve it. The way my father should have done as well. So, it was his birthday two days ago. I often thought about giving him a call on his birthday but I never managed to do that in previous years. But this year I decided to give it a try. Maybe he’s changed, who knows? So I called his office two days ago. I was terribly nervous; my fingers were trembling and I had butterflies in my stomach while I was dialing. I had almost changed my mind when his secretary answered the phone. I told her who I was and whom I wanted to talk to. “Hold on a second, please” She said to me. “He’s just arrived back from a meeting.” I heard her asking, “Mr. Taylor. It’s your son. May I put the call through to your office?” “Who?” I heard my father’s stern voice. “Your…son.” The secretary answered in a somewhat uncertain voice. “I don’t have a son.” That was all he said and then I heard a door slam. For a few seconds none of us said anything. Then the secretary started to speak. “Um…look, I…” But I cut her off. “It’s okay. Thanks.” I said and hang up. I flopped down on the bed and closed my eyes for a minute. I tried to understand what’d just happened. ‘I don’t have a son.’ No sentence has ever hurt me more than this one. I slowly pulled the nightstand’s drawer out and I started looking for something in it. A minute later I found what I’d been looking for. I took a framed picture out from the bottom of the drawer. I looked at it while my childhood memories began to haunt me. It was a picture of Dad and me. It was taken when I was sixteen. I had just finished a school year and passed all my exams with A’s. I thought about how proud Dad had been of me then, and how happy I had been for making him so proud. He had expected so much from me – and then I shattered all his dreams. Just because I was not the son he’d always hoped for. I started to wonder. ‘Was I really that bad? Is it my fault that I’m gay? Is it really that unforgivable? Why didn’t he give me a chance?’ Sometimes I still miss him but it’s really hard to admit, even to myself. I felt a tear rolling down on my face while I was staring at the picture. And suddenly, out of nowhere I heard a familiar voice; the voice I love the most. “Hey Sunshine. Is everything okay?” Brian had arrived home and I didn’t even hear him. I didn’t want him to see the picture or my wet face. But it was too late, he’d noticed both. “Yeah, everything’s fine. I just found this, I don’t know how it got in here.” I tried to look as casual as possible. I didn’t want him to tell me that he’d already told me before about the advantages of missing fathers. And I didn’t want him to think that I was a pathetic little faggot either. He didn’t say anything, just kissed me softly. And I was so grateful for it. But I guess he knew exactly what I had on my mind, and why I was so fucked up. When we went to bed he put his arms around me and held me so very close. So close that I felt like his heartbeat was mine. He kissed my face gently then whispered in my ear softly, “You’re very special Justin. I want you to know that. And if he can’t see it, well, it’s his fucking loss then.” I know that one day I’ll get over it completely, and I won’t even think about my father. Because I realized a long time ago that there’s only one man I really need in my life. And he’s sleeping peacefully close beside me. And he loves me like I love him. “J”