Gale shrank under the harsher tone.
It was pissing me off that I couldn’t see his face or read his expression. I leaned over to turn on a light, but he grabbed my arm.
“No. Please don’t. It’s easier in the dark.”
Frustrated, I lay down, but I couldn’t erase the scowl. “I’m not judging you. Why are you judging me?”
“I’m sorry.”
“Stop apologizing. Where is this coming from? Have I given you any reason to believe I’m faking this? Why would I do that? And why do I care if you’re experienced or popular? This isn’t high school.”
Waves of apprehension rolled off him. I wanted to reach out but feared crossing some invisible line. This night was not unfolding how I hoped. Between exhaustion and confusion, I was bound to say the wrong thing, so I remained quiet.
Gale stared at the mattress between us for a long time before his tentative voice penetrated the room. “I have to tell you why I left the seminary.”
I sensed this was a truth he didn’t usually share. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.”
“I do. I want you to understand my reservation.”
Curiosity got the better of me, so I lay quiet and listened.
“I was pretty messed up after my mom died. Her death wasn’t sudden. We knew it was going to happen, but still. You can’t prepare for something like that. I was ten and needed my mother more than I could express. Olivia managed better, but she’s always been stronger than me. I got swallowed by grief. No one knew what to do with this broken kid. School was hell. I was at that age when boys recognize their masculinity and crucify anyone who goes against the gender expectations. It was also around that time that I figured out I was gay.”
Gale paused, and I imagined he was gathering his thoughts. When he fidgeted with the blankets, I sought his hand. He let me hold it.
“I didn’t fit in at school. Never had. The other boys saw me as different. Weak. Even when I tried so hard to be exactly like them. After my mother died, I cried all the time, and boys aren’t supposed to cry.”
“Bullshit.”
“Any ten-year-old will tell you that. I cried over everything. It would have been better if I was angry and violent, but that wasn’t me. I was too soft, I guess. My emotions were out of control, and I didn’t know how to fix them. It gave the kids one more reason to tease me. I fell victim to their verbal and emotional abuse. Themore the teachers intervened, the worse it got when they weren’t looking. Olivia used to get mad at me for letting it happen, but I didn’t know how to stop it. It felt like a bomb had gone off inside me, and I was missing too many pieces to ever be whole again.”
“Where was your dad in all this? Didn’t he help?”
“He tried. The first summer after my mom passed, he sent me to my aunt’s in Arkansas. I think he hoped the change of scenery and a motherly figure might help. You have to remember, my dad was in a bad way. He’d lost his wife and the mother of his children. He didn’t know what to do with me.
“That summer, my aunt brought me to church every Sunday. Told me my mother was with God in heaven. Said she would be there for me when my time came. That she watched over me. My family was never religious, but I found peace and comfort for the first time in months. I was no longer alone. God was with me. I clung to that. My religious journey began that summer. I joined Bible school when I got home. When I requested it, my dad happily took me to church every Sunday.”
Gale met my gaze in the dark. “Do you believe in God?”
“I don’t know. It’s always been a complicated thing with me.”
Gale nodded as though that was what he expected.
“Is it a deal breaker?”
“No. Not at all.”
“When did you decide you wanted to join the seminary?”
“I was fifteen. And no, my sexuality didn’t play a role in my decision, but I won’t lie and say it wasn’t a comfort to choose to forever suppress that part of me. I struggled to accept myself. Still do sometimes. Joining the church meant I would never have to shine a light on it or acknowledge it openly to anyone.”
“Are you ashamed to be gay?”
Gale pressed his lips together, then slowly shook his head. “No, but I don’t do well with confrontation, and to be openly gayis to invite unending conflict into your life. I’m not sure I can handle it. People knowing. Endless judgment.”
“It’s not that bad. You don’t have to wear a sign. You can be out with friends and family without broadcasting your sexuality to strangers. You don’t have to march in parades or wave a flag. You can be quietly out.”
“I wish it was that easy.”
