The alarm went off at 5:00. I had gotten four hours of sleep. Fuck. I was tired all day. Then I couldn't sleep on the plane. Or in the car on the way to the Grand Canyon.
My parents started arguing on the way to the Grand Canyon. We had no camp gas, and didn't know if they had any at the Grand Canyon.
It got bad. They swore. And yelled.
Then, they got a little better.
Then my dad started saying that he has to quit the job he has right now. My mom doesn't work.
My dad says his job was causing all sorts of stress. He alluded to previous fights. Bad ones.
The desert air dried out my lips.
The next day. After I stagger into camp with a pack 1/3 my size, I take my shoes off.
Then I split my toe on a rock. I will have to walk the next 18 miles with a semi-limp.
Theres not enough food.
My lips are still dry.
The next day. We're hiking in the hot, hot sun for miles and MILES across the desert plateau.
Nothing to think about, nothing to do. Just one foot in front of the other.
The heat is killing me. I don't have enough water.
My lips are getting drier by the minute.
The next day. We're hiking up for miles up the steep slope, which ironically is covered in snow.
I have no crampons. I slip every step.
I leave my hat and glasses behind. My lips are still dry.
Finally, the next day. I'm all stressed out. The trip didn't work out as good as I had hoped.
I need someone to love. What I get is "will you go out with me?".
From a girl.
One of the three from my swim team who have specifically told me they have a crush on me. Including my ex, who says she still loves me.
I grimaced. My lower lip split.
Then I thought of how incredibly UNFAIR this all is. To me. To everyone. I just want someone to LOVE, and yet I have to reject dating oppurtunities more and more often. Because they're all girls. I can't be with them, they can't be with me. EVERYONE loses from my being gay. I felt like Johnny Smith from The Dead Zone. "Killing me. You people are killing me. Let me alone. Can't you see you're killing me?" All of you. Those homophobic assholes. Those guys adverse to all contact with me. All those straight girls that ask me out so often. All those well-meaning adults that feel the need to discuss my being gay, driving up my already formidable stress levels. All of you, you're all killing me.
Then I slapped myself.
I deserved it.
JESUS, SHUT UP you whiny little bitch.
For every homophobic asshole, there is a unconditional friend.
For every well meaning yet incompetent adult, there is another well meaning and VERY competent adult.
For every Fred Phelps, there is a Matthew Hurley.
Life will go on. You will find a way to deal. So will everyone else. This is no way to behave.
We all do our best. And that has to be good enough.
And if it's not good enough, then it has to do. Our best is all we have.