Bry-tama

So, this is my last letter of apology. Firstly - bisexuals, I'm sorry. Really. I'm not like you guys, I'm gay, through and through. I guess I thought it would lessen the blow to my parents, but all that does is take away the seriousness of your sexual orientation. It was rather rude of me. I'll make sure not to do it again. To my mother: I'm sorry you're not proud of me. I'm sorry you couldn't make it to the wedding, I'm sorry you didn't even bother to make up an excuse. I'm sorry that I have to tell you that I'm not going to change, because I can't. It would hurt too much, to break Ruby (you remember Ruby, don't you? Mother of your grandch

"What is this? Claire, Claire, what are you doing? No. No, don't do this." My face feels burning. I can't move. I feel awful. I see Daddy wiping away tears as he walks into the kitchen. I shouldn't have done this. Roo, Roo, what were you thinking? This was a bad idea, a bad, bad idea. "Where did we go wrong?" I hear Dad mutter. The fridge opens, there's a rattle, then it closes. When he walks back into the living room he's clutching a beer. A drop of water slides down the can, resembling the bead of sweat dripping down my own face. I look back at my mother. She's collapsed in a chair, head in her hands. "Claire, honey. We love you. Of cours

Ruby finds me. I had slipped the note to my parents and the one to her in each of their respective homes earlier in the day. I went and holed up in a park in a shabbier, emptier part of town. The park is run down, the plastic slide only bolted to the ground and loose at the top, sticking out like an antenna. Everything was covered in dirt, broken glass and cigarette butts. I kick my legs, the tire swing swaying back and forth slowly. The chains holding it creaked worryingly. "Claire," I hear her say. "Hi." I look over my shoulder. Ruby, she's standing there, in a school uniform. The slowly setting sun is behind her, giving her a soft, hea

This is my second letter of apology. This is to Ruby. Ruby, I did it, I came out to my parents. I suppose I do feel better, as you said I would, you're usually right, after all. Ruby. You're beautiful, you know that? Beautiful and smart and brave and unique. You accept yourself. I can't do that, Roo. I can't. It's not in me. I don't like how I am, it doesn't feel like myself. It suits you, though, right down to the core. I wish you the best. I wish I could be the best, for you, but I'm not and I won't ever be. Maybe one day you'll find a girl just as good as you (unlikely!) and she'll love you even more than I do, than I should (also unlik

This is a letter of apology. This is for my parents. I'm sorry. Really. I'm as heartbroken as you're probably going to be. Firstly, for being this way. Secondly, for lying. Thirdly, for not telling you sooner. This whole thing is just a whole massive backstab and I'm sorry. I didn't mean it this way. It just happened. I realised I was this way when I was nine. That was a while ago, about eight years. Eight years hiding from the two people I loved most was a living Hell for me, I promise. I died a little every single day. All those cuts and bruises I told you were from falling off my bike, tripping on that last step, banging myself, they we