It gets better.

Imagine being five, and have no idea why you like staring at boys and not know why.

Imagine being in church, and the pastor telling you gays will burn in hell. You're six.

Imagine being alone in your bathroom, crying because you realized that you will burn in hell for entery, because you can't seem to change. You're seven.

Imagine being alone. You're eight, nine, ten, eleven, twelve, thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen.

Imagine having a dream of you falling into the pits of hell every night. It got so bad, you wake up, in your urine, sweat, and tears.

It got so bad, you start to burn yourself with the tip of a match.

You are so alone. You have no one. Your parents would hate you if they find out, and my God, hates me already.

This was my childhood.

It built up. I pushed down. Until one day me and my best friend Chelsea Hardin went on a photo shoot, on a bridge. Once, just a split second, a brief moment in time, I looked over that bridge, and just thought, "Nope, not high enough to kill me." I felt so disappointed, for some stupid reason, I was so horrible sad. That scared me, it was probably the most scariest moment of my life.

I couldn't take it, I had to tell someone. Enter in Chelsea.

This is how it when:
Me: "I have to tell you something."
Chelsea: "You're gay aren't you?"

Just like that it felt like a giant lift off my shoulders.

But it wasn't all better, not yet. Having Chelsea was great, but she didn't fully understand, I was still really alone. That's when I found Cody. He was nice, and kind, and I skipped school to met him.

My mom found out. And confronted me. My world crumbled beneath my feet.

She wasn't happy, but she loves me. I had to answers some very awkward questions. But all in all, it wasn't bad.

Then she told my dad.

My dad said some very upsetting thing, like I will never get married. I will never have a child. I will never be love. And I will burn in hell.

I started to burn myself again.

During the summer I went to my first PRIDE, and well there was so many people. So many things, and gays. For once in my life, I wasn't completely alone. There were married men, men with children, who were healthily and happy, and there were Christians.

That night, I stopped listening to my dad. And I stopped hurting myself, and started to read my bible again.

It's been four months. My dads stops telling stuff, and started to hang out with me more, my mom has been loving, and I have been going church.

I am not dating anyone, but one day,
-I will be married.
-I will have children, hopefully two.
-I will be loved.
-I will be happy.
-I will never burn, in hell, or with matches again.

What I want y'all to know is, you are never alone. And you are loved. And I know I didn't have a horrible life, and I not going to pretend that it was terrible, but I do know.

It gets better.