Being Queer Shouldn’t Mean Death

I had a dream last night. It wasn’t one of the sex dreams that have been haunting me because I have a crush on someone and she won’t let me breathe, even in my dreams. And it wasn’t the super powers dream that I had had the night before. Last night I dreamt that they had had enough of us. They wanted to get rid of everyone who identified as queer. First, they paraded us infront of the ‘normal’ people. Later, they raided our homes. I think they were beating us. I don’t know. I had packed everything, presumably to ran away, when I heard steps and shouts. I hid under my bed and then I woke up.
It made me think of the guy. The 14 year old who was shot dead by his father because the latter didn’t want a gay son.
In Suicide Notes, I read that however you think your parents will react to your coming out, they won’t. It had however not crossed my mind that a parent would be so angry, so full of hatred, so blinded by rage that they would rather a dead son to a gay son.
Giovanni, I wish you had been born in a better world, to a better father. A father who hadn’t abused you, held a gun to you a number of times and finally pulled the trigger. There was nothing wrong with you. We live in a world where our truths hurt people who have no business being hurt. We live in a world where living our truth means being labelled, ridiculed and ostracized. This world didn’t deserve you.
Maybe, in an alternate universe, no one cares if you are gay.
I used to fixate on how my parents would react if I came out to them. When I thought of how disappointed dad would be, it made me want to end things. Because, I thought, he didn’t deserve a daughter like me. It would be easier if I didn’t exist.
Now, I’m understanding that people’s reactions, even my parents’, will have nothing to do with me. And as such, shouldn’t concern me.

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