"That's it."
Lyn ran her nimble thin fingers through her graying hair, she had to made a decision and she had to do it fast. There must be a solution to her problems, that is if she considered all those unlucky moments as problems.
Whatever they were, nothing was getting better and sooner than later she'd be pushed down her dump with the big black dog feeding from her body.
Yes, that was it. That was the day she had to put an end to her misery.
"I'm not gay," she mumbled, biting her lower lip indecisively.
It has to be true, she wasn't a homosexual, she didn't belong to those sinners who would rot in hell for an unknown amount of time, swimming in lava, hanging from their hair as big metal bars were pushed into their sensitive parts and they were urged to drink from cauldrons filled with molten metal to quench their never ending thirst. No, that wasn't her. She was a strong believer, and although she had many gay friends, even good ones she could trust and confide in, she wasn't one of them.
However, she had to admit to some extent she could understand them, even sympathize with those of them thinking it was how they were created and not a choice.
But it was a choice, she made that choice to be gay. Of course, she wasn't that sure about how she did it for over five years in the cyberspace. At least she knew she did a good and believable job with that imaginary character that almost no one suspected much. She even liked her imaginary persona where she pretended to be a gay boy madly in love; the boy who tried to have unsafe sex with total strangers as he rode through his manic depressive moods with passion, and desperately tried to have a normal life with a normal family.
This imaginary character was her love, not that it was a crush, no far from it. It was part of her. Although she had to admit she never craved boys, she never dreamed of them doing things to her or the other way round. The closest she got was to make her inner boy look for other guys, want them, desire them, beg them to use him, devour him, make him their pet.
There were times she wondered if the boy was the man she wanted in her life. Deep down she knew it wasn't true. The boy wasn't a total stranger; his moods were a reflection of her moods, her depression, her joy. He was what she physically lacked. He was the boy she saw herself as. She was him and he was her. That's why when at last she decided to live her life among real people and end the boy's life, she mourned for weeks feeling she had lost a part of her soul.
At least she managed to end the imaginary friend's life. She even tried to communicate with real people, in a manner that was accepted, in a way she was expected to. She tried to look feminine, she even wore dresses and make-up, but there was still this feeling of not belonging, being a stranger among familiar faces. She wanted others to notice her, to love her, to seek her attention.
It was unfair to say she wasn't successful, in fact, she was accepted to a great extent when she turned on her charm. Still deep down she felt like a lier, like she was hiding something. The more she hanged out with others, the hollower she felt. Something was missing.
That's when she sought a community
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