In school, I had a friend, a best friend. She was sweet and funny and awesome. And she had a secret. I knew the secret, and it didn’t matter to me. It didn’t change her at all. She was still sweet, funny, and awesome. She played tetherball like a champion and could juggle five rocks. And she had a secret. We both loved to turn over rocks and see what kind of bugs were underneath. We shared a hatred for the color pink and the wearing of skirts. We both agreed that Diet Dr. Pepper was tastier than regular Dr. Pepper. We shared a fascination with electronics and both got in trouble for taking things apart to see how they worked.
And she had a secret.
One day, when she was 16, someone found out her secret.
And they told people.
And my best friend took a gun, put it in her mouth, and pulled the trigger.
You see, my best friend was a lesbian. And intolerant, hateful people spent so much time and energy telling her how disgusting she was that she couldn’t cope with them knowing she was a lesbian. She couldn’t handle the psychological and emotional abuse her ‘loving Christian’ parents foisted on her. She was actively tortured by a ‘re-education’ camp.
Every now and then, I come across someone who says ‘well, homosexuality is wrong and unnatural’. And when they say those words, I hear those words for what they are really saying. ‘I’m a murderer, and I killed your best friend.’
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