How do you tell a story that doesn't mak...

How do you tell a story that doesn't make any sense? A story that you wish had never happened. Well, let's get the obvious out of the way: I'm gay. Well, I thought I was gay. As long as I can remember I've liked guys. I was awkward, unsure of myself. But, Julie, Julie always knew. She always saw me for me. I met Julie my freshmen year of high school, we were fast friends, my best friend. When others made fun of my sexuality, before I even knew about my sexuality, she was there. When I was confused, when I was lost, Julie always found me. We grew up. Julie married her high school sweetheart, Dennis. He was okay, I guess. We stayed in touch. I was in and out of relationships, never could find my way. So, when I was 28, I moved back to my hometown. Julie had just had her first child. I watched him get older. We were part of each other's lives. Then life happens. I'm not proud of this, but it happened. One day Julie and I were hanging out, her son was taking a nap. She was telling me about her distresses in her marriage and I couldn't help myself I leaned in and kissed Julie. Now, granted, I'm gay. At least I thought I was gay. And I wish I could say this was the first time I had kissed someone who was married, but my last "boyfriend" was a closeted homosexual who was considerably older and had been married for several years. Needless to say, he couldn't take it and he went back to his life, his wife, finding it easier to live a lie than live his truth. But, Julie, she was family. She was...my everything. The following weeks were emotional turmoil. I was trying to figure things out. So was she, but the more we fought it, the more we couldn't help ourselves. Years of love turned into desire and I craved her completely. Wanted her, only her. How could that be? I did not like girls. No, except one: Julie. A year went by. We stole away for moments of happiness. But I could tell it was tearing her apart. She questioned my affection. Was I gay? Was I not? All I knew was that I wanted Julie and only Julie. And now listen: You can't choose who you fall in love with. This is a true statement, but that doesn't make it a good thing.

(Pause)

One day, I was at work. I kept texting Julie. She wasn't texting me back. At first, I was worried, then I got angry. She didn't want me anymore. But then I got the call. Our mutual friend, Karen, called. Julie had...she had written a letter, taken a bottle of oxycontin and to make sure it all stuck, she put a pistol to her temple and ended her life. Dennis was in shambles. Her son, motherless. And I...I blacked out. I don't remember anything. The world was a fog. But no one could know. No one. No one should know. So, what do I do? I don't tell the story. I seal my lips. I grieve in silence. It's the right thing to do...