Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83586 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 418(@200wpm)___ 334(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
I was bigger than him, right? I’d thought that meant I was supposed to be the man, just like Clyde had insinuated—as if how we had sex was what differentiated that. As if a man shouldn’t want those things that I loved so much, but they could and that was okay. It had nothing to do with being small or weak, which meant…
I shoved out of bed, hardly made it to the toilet before I was on my knees, violently emptying my stomach. My gut clenched, cramped up as I vomited everything inside me, my body continuing to try even when there was nothing left.
After flushing, I lowered myself to the bathroom floor, just lay there, looking up at the ceiling.
Sutton had been right. Last night wasn’t about us at all. It was about me. About all the ugliness I’d heard off and on my whole life and how I’d taken it in, how I’d internalized it and let it mold my thoughts and feelings about myself and the world around me. Shame had filled me, fueled me when I went after Clyde, because I’d felt like there was something wrong with me if I liked the things he’d said.
In that moment, I hated myself for those thoughts. I hated the world for making both men and women think this way, for raising little boys to feel like they had to act a certain way to be a man.
And I wasn’t gonna perpetuate that any longer. I sure as shit was going to do everything in my power to evict those thoughts that had been woven into how I’d been raised.
I pushed to my feet, brushed my teeth, pulled jeans on and a tee. My shoes were by the door, and I shoved my feet into them.
It was early, about seven judging by the sun and the look of the property. My folks would already be awake, but even if they weren’t, I wouldn’t have let it stop me.
I banged on the door so hard, my hand burned.
It was Dad who opened it, eyes wide and concerned before they turned suspicious when he saw it was me.
“You lied to me,” I said, pushing around him into the house. “You both lied to me, my whole fuckin’ life. You told me family mattered. You told me how you treated people mattered. You took me to church and told me to love my neighbor, but that wasn’t what you did, it wasn’t what either of you did.”
“How dare you—”
“No,” I cut Dad off. “I’m talkin’ this time. You said all those things to me, yet anytime someone wasn’t exactly who you wanted them to be, you judged them for it. Aunt Carrie for her drinkin’ problems, homeless people on the streets when we’d go to Charlotte, men who weren’t your idea of what masculinity is supposed to be. I think I would’ve realized how I felt about Sutton sooner, and maybe I would have opened myself up to the possibility of being bisexual or whatever I am, but I’d internalized every fuckin’ thing you said. Every name you called someone, every time you told me it was weak to cry, made me feel like men had to act a certain way and women another. You made me hate parts of myself I couldn’t even admit were there. Do you know what that does to someone?”
My voice broke, but I didn’t cry. Not because there was anything wrong with it, and not because it was weak or because I was a man. I’d cried how many times in front of Sutton, and he’d never judged me for it. But I was done shedding tears over my folks. I was done fighting to get back into someone’s life if they didn’t want me there. I was done trying to prove myself to them.
“There’s nothin’ wrong with bein’ queer. There’s nothing wrong with being feminine or with a woman bein’ masculine. There’s nothin’ wrong with Sammy Joe, and there’s nothin’ wrong with me lovin’ Sutt. There ain’t a damn thing wrong with how he holds me and makes me feel cared for, like I’m precious to him. There ain’t nothin’ wrong with me.”
“Jasper,” Mama started. “You know we love you. Those things you’re sayin’—”
“Are true. I shouldn’t be something you have to adjust to. You might not’ve said the things Dad did, but you never countered them either. Even now, you don’t want it to be like this. You want me with a woman, I don’t doubt that, but if it wasn’t for Dad, you would have accepted it by now. I ain’t doin’ this anymore.” I turned to Dad. “I feel sorry for you—that you don’t practice those things you preach, that you can look at me and Sutt and not see the beauty in us. I hurt him last night because I was lettin’ that shit get in my head, because no matter what I said, deep down I was lettin’ myself be ashamed. I ain’t doin’ it no more. If we’re ever gonna have any kinda relationship, it’s gonna be the two of you comin’ to me.”