Janurary 5, 2011

Within the diary of Rose.

Sixth grade is when it started. It's been four long years since then. I've tried to deny it for too long, now. I think it's finally time I accept it.
I've always liked girls. My best friend in 4th grade was like my lover. It makes so much sense, though I wish it weren't true. I don't want to stand out from the crowd. I don't want people to be able and point me out and say "Hey, look at that girl. Rose? Yeah, she's totally a lesbian, bro."
"You really think so dude?"

"I know so, man."

At the same time I can't keep hiding who I am. I want to grow up and get married. A perfect princess wedding, like I've always dreamed. And to have a daughter. I'm never going to get there if I hide who I am inside.
What if everyone laughs at me?

Will they even believe me? I don't look gay. I'm too feminine.
No. . . . I'll do it. I'll come out to someone tomorrow. I don't really know who, though.
Okay, so, Diary? I think I'm supposed to address you, as if you were a person, right? Don't judge me. I've never kept a journal or anything before. I'm new at this.
"Oh no I have an amateur writing in my pages. Get it out, get it out!"  Yeah, none of that, please?

My dad bought you for me because he says I need to let out some of my feelings and emotions. Are they really that noticable? I thought I was doing a great job at hiding them.
I suppose you probably want to know who I am, though, right? Well, my name is Rose. I'm not very extraordinary, I'm just a normal person. Who happens to be gay. Who also happens to have struggled with that fact for too long. So long, actually, that for a couple years, I forgot what was wrong with me entirely and just happened to be . . . depressed.
Last year, I tried to kill myself because of it. I pegged it to the police saying I was lonely. They didn't hospitalize me, though, which was surprising to me. I guess they figured I wasn't much of a threat to myself, which was a little insulting in the end, but at that point I couldn't really care. Everyone at school knew and I was the center of attention for a day.
Believe me, that is not fun to me. People scare me. I can't be around too many people, especially not ones that I don't know. It's very hard for me to meet anyone, really. They pretty much have to explicitly express interest in me first before I do or say anything to them.
I never used to be like that. Before sixth grade, I was always smiles. I'd try to make friends with everyone and get caught up in all the toddler drama. Fun game. I moved around a lot, though.
I keep talking about my past as if it happened earlier today. Okay, so, important events of the day right?

Well, today, my late Christmas present came in the mail. Merry Christmas, guys. When I saw what I had received, my grin grew till it touched both of my ears. My dad had ordered a brand new electric piano for me. I'd been wanting one all year; I felt it was inconvenient for the rest of the household whenever I touched the high-top in the living room.
I hurriedly set it up in my room and played for hours. Songs like One Summer's Day and Marry Go Round of Life danced on my fingers until she appeared again in my room.
Something odd about me that I've never really told anyone before is that I see things; people, objects, whatever. I just see things that aren't there. Sometimes it happens to be extremely annoying. Other times I find it to be pleasant. If a person shows up, I have someone to talk to, some company to share. Occasionally, as I try to go to bed, I'll see different objects flying at me. I know they aren't really there, so it doesn't scare my like it used to, but it's still creepy to see a pair of purple sunglasses and a cup of yogurt flying at you from the ceiling.
She came tonight. I don't really know her name, she's never told me. She looks to be about twenty-years-old, or so, and she has big wings, sort of like an angle. But she's not an angel. She wishes she could keep me safe from things, though she can't do anything about my pain.
This woman normally only appears to me on nights that I feel sad and lonely, so I was surprised to see her tonight. I turned my piano off and went to sit on my bed to talk to her, but she vanished before I could say anything.

. . .
Anyway, diary, I start school again on the 8th. I'm not looking forward to it. Then again, who ever is?
I'm sorry for my messy handwriting. I bet you could still interpret it, though. You can always guess if you need.

Signing off,

Rose

Author's Note

First Draft