Light

This writing describes the thoughts of a 14 year old boy searching for a solution to his sexuality through references to light.

Light

Why can’t I just tell them? I don’t think I should have to, but then again most people do. Maybe I'm wrong, but just thinking about it eats me up inside. I’m surrounded by a sea of blankets in the middle of summer, yet I’m sitting here as cold as ice. I have nothing around to warm me, not even enough to keep my body going. As time goes on the struggle becomes more than I can bare. I’m a candle's flame struggling to eat up the last bit of oxygen just to keep lit for a few seconds longer. If only I could allow more oxygen in to keep me going, but if I do this there will be a cost. The cost would be everybody knowing. Sure, it can be a good thing; there’d be people to bring me up when I’m down, but then again for every action there’s a reaction. In this case, I’m not sure if I’m ready for what would come. I’d be disowned by my family, made fun of at school, and laughed at by everybody around me. It’d be like a toddler blowing on a lit candle just to see how much it can take before the flame would be lost forever. To others this won’t matter at all, but to me it’s life and death. Without this flame I’ll be lost in an eternity of darkness, struggling to find my way back to the light. But even now, how do I know there’s still light if all I can see is darkness?