All I could think was: I am going to hell. I was obsessed with this idea that I'd never have a right relationship with God.
From the earliest time I can remember until I was almost done with college, my two older brothers abused me verbally and emotionally.
For a Native American who is struggling with same-sex attraction (SSA) or views himself as gay, it's kind of hard to fit into this family dynamic.
I saw that my father had a very real relationship with God that was uncommon, powerful, and full of joy. I knew I wanted to be close to God because of Dad.
My whole life I've wanted the love of a big brother. I've always wanted to press into someone bigger than me, someone stronger, someone wiser. A big brother to hold me, a big brother to comfort me, a big brother to tell me everything will be okay because he's right there and he's not going to let me go.
An anticipated drive with my dad would prove to be a fracturing moment in our relationship. It was the moment my father failed me.
I will be reminded of this brokenness every time we are forced to gather. I hate this brokenness. For it is in this brokenness that my SSA came to be.
Because of this small step, I would be able to be more open to other people in the future, telling them about my struggle with my sexuality.
I'd had enough of life with only these types of strong male friendships while the other types of male friendships went severely lacking. Couldn't I just have "normal" heterosexual guy friends?
Today, while walking around work, I saw him again, this time from the back. I almost fell forward due to the unreal and freakish resemblance. It was all I could do not to burst into tears. It felt like I was being haunted by my best friend.