Dear Dad,

I am not who you want me to be.

I can’t tell you what’s wrong, because you’ll think it’s me.

I used to cry about this every night and now I just accept it.

I won’t be what you want.

You got happy that I “brought a girl to homecoming”.

But I didn’t tell you that I was meeting my boyfriend at the dance.

You wonder why I don’t feel comfortable telling you things.

It’s because for years I’ve dreaded the word faggot slipping out of your mouth.

I’ve already been told I’m going to Hell. I just don’t want to hear it from you.

Love,

Your Faggot Son