I am Happy Now

The name Abel derives from the Bible story; or rather truth, if you so believe, which I do. Abel was Adam and Eve's son and the first murder victim in history. If you know how the story goes, Abel's brother Caine was jealous of him and so he murdered his own brother. Kind of criptic if you ask me but I guess when you're influenced by the devil, that's how the cookie crumbles.

Caine was jealous of Abel because Abel was God's favorite. And I wouldn't necessarily say favorite, either. After Adam and Eve broke the only rule in the garden of Eden, God somewhat lost his faith in humanity, and with Abel, it was restored. Caine was jealous of that; I hear he was desperate to please God but it was always Abel doing the pleasing.

It seemed fit I suppose after naming my older sister Marry, and we all know the importance of that name, that my parents name me Abel. Really, it's an old name. I haven't met anyone named Abel, well, ever, and I garauntee neither have my parents or my sister or anyone else I know, either. It's uncommon so I don't particularily like it, yet at the same time I do because it makes me unique.

When I introduce myself, people usually ask if I was named after the infamous Abel from the Bible. My answer is yes; my parents are such devout Christian's there's no mistaking that was where they got the name. They wanted me to be the person who restored God's faith in humanity and that's a lot of pressure. My parents are such strong Christian's that God is everything.

Don't get me wrong! I love God. I am at peace with my fate and I know I'm going to Heaven. I go to church and read my Bible and pray before my meals and yeah, I take it seriously. Maybe not as seriously as my parents, who live by the Bible in their everyday lives.

I'm just saying my mom doesn't work. She takes care of the kids and my dad makes all the money, and she sits us down every night and we read the Bible and pray and my sister is going to college and even that my parents are skeptical about. Everything the Bible says is law, you know what I mean? They aren't big on sinners either which in a way, is hypocritical in my eyes. They sin constantly; we all do. It's apart of being a human, apart of the legacy that Adam and Eve left behind for us. It's who we are. We as humans are sinners.

I don't really like to think of myself as a sinner, though.

I know I make mistakes. Don't we all? I ask for forgivness when I know I need too, and I know God forgives me, and I know I'm a good person. It's natural that I slip up sometimes.

I refuse to think, however, that I need to ask for God's forgivness for being born this way.

I'm sure you're all wondering exactly what I'm ranting about, right? I'll tell you soon enough but first let me explain a few things.

I am eighteen; a legal adult. My parents both want me to start off going to junior college and working my way up to university to do something great like missionary work or maybe be a pastor, but that's not really want I want to do. I just graduated high school a week ago, why would I want to jump into even more school in two months?

I do want to go to college, don't get me wrong. I just don't want to go my first year. I want a little time off to live, you know? Go on dates and meet friends and have a wild time; while still being safe, mind you. I am a Christian, which means no, I'm not going off to have wild sex every night and drink until I can't see straight. That doesn't mean I can't have fun though! I want to go to a party, one my parents won't find out about. I want to have a sip of beer considering I never have in my entire life. I want to try a cigarrette. I want to kiss someone, make-out with someone, dance with someone. I want to be a teenager, you know?

Don't try telling my parents that. My mom would have a cow and my dad, he'd be so pissed. He'd send me off to some religious camp, if they offered one. This one time when I was a junior I became friends with this boy who was a freshman, and he was into some iffy stuff. My dad caught me with him, and he was smoking a cigarrette, so when we got home he started asking if I went to parties and drank and had sex with a bunch of girls. Hypocritical if you ask me, and so stupid of him to judge my friend like that. Why does smoking a cigarrette lead to parties and sex? He didn't have a great home life and it was a stress relief! Anyway, Dad threatened to send me off if I didn't stop hanging out with him and soon enough, that boy didn't even exist to me. You don't argue with my parents; heck, you don't argue with the town considering ninety-nine percent of them attend some sort of church group and are devout Christian's who believe in right over wrong all the time. It's tiring in all honesty, everyone being so perfect and the stereotypical, Jesus loving family. Who says you can't be a Jesus Freak and have some fun or hang with the one-percent rejects? Because apparently someone told this town that.

I don't consider myself the perfect little preacher boy. I don't think any of my peers do either. My best friend, Rodger, sort of sits on the fence, and I never forced the Bible in his face. I think my classmen understand that my parents are strict on this stuff, but that I didn't necessarily want to shove my religion in everyone's throats. Besides, there were only about five people who didn't do that, everyone else in my grade did. Everyone else at school pretty much does; we're a very small town with only about fifty people per class, so as you can imagine when it comes to beliefs, we're set. Its a little sickening in all honesty.

I think I'm cool, but who am I? Maybe a little bit to much of a people pleaser, but can you blame me? My parents make me that way. If I don't do what they say or what they believe I'm in trouble, and I hate disappointing my mom. I feel like it makes me a failure, besides, I'm supposed to honor my parents as it says in the ten commandments.

This is where I am divided.

I am gay.

I haven't told anyone. Actually, I take that back. Rodger knows, but Rodger is my best friend. I tell him everything and he tells me everything in turn. He doesn't hate me; thank God, because if everyone else knew, I would become the school's number one reject and sinner.

I was born this way, okay? No matter how many people say this was a choice, it wasn't. When I was five years old, no one told me to think boys were cute. No one told me to think girls were cute either. It's just something that happened. I can remember being on the playground, watching all the boys chase the girls. But I didn't want to chase the girls; I wanted to chase the boys, because they were cute to me. They were pretty. This is me and I was born this way and if God created me, which I firmly believe he did, then why would he have created me to be something he hated?

I refuse to believe God hates me simply because I like the same gender. He doesn't, I know he doesn't. If it was really as bad as people argue it to be, then it would be the eleventh commandment, you know? I don't think I'm doing anything wrong, but I guess at the same time people can argue I am. Inside, I don't feel like I am, but everyone else would tell me I am commiting one of the worst sins imaginable; which makes no sense! Sin doesn't have a value! Sometimes I just want to scream out the truth.

I can't tell anyone though. No one here would understand. I kissed this one boy back in sophomore year who went to the town over, and because he wasn't out yet, he didn't tell anyone. We never became an item, but we still talk. He graduated this year, same as me, and he's honestly one of my best friends, next to Rodger. The only thing being he's come out, and tells me I should too, but I can't. He says he understands but I don't think he does.

My parents would not allow it. They think the end of the world is upon us because of all the 'sinning' going on, and that our president supports gay-marriage, and they almost like the Westboro church, which sickens me. Those people make me want to puke; God isn't some cruel, sick person who kills some for other's sins. I refuse to believe that, next to refusing to believe God hates me.

If I told my parents, they would send me off to a camp that would make me 'straight.' They would disown me, and never let me in the house again, and cut me off just like that. I know they would. They would do the same if I was doing any other kind of 'sin.'

It's not that I wish I wasn't gay. Sometimes yeah, it would be ten times easier if I liked girls and could marry one and have kids to appease my parents, but also myself. I want to like girls, because then my parents would love me wholeheartedly and in a way, I would love myself. I've tried, I honestly have. I took a girl out on a date when I was a junior and it didn't work out so great. It felt wrong when she tried to hold my hand so I knew I couldn't pretend. Just because I don't pretend, however, doesn't mean I'll tell anyone. It doesn't mean I wish things were different, either. I want to make my parents proud and happy but by being who I am, I can't.

I guess I can stay locked inside the closet until I have a carreer and support myself and am no longer afraid of my father and his pressuring beliefs. Who knows when that will be? They'll try to change me but they can't; I'm not ashamed of who I am, really, but I am ashamed that my parents will be unable to love me.

I am gay and I do not think God hates me. My parents, on the other hand, well. In the end, they do.