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My Beating Heart
My heart beats faster with every click of the mouse. My hands touch the keys of the keyboard—they’re bricks beneath my shaking hands. This pressure is like an elephant upon my chest—preventing me from breathing, as I type my inner most secret.
Thoughts and feelings fill my head as I try to get the words to spill out onto paper. How will they react once I tell them I’m gay? Will they be shocked, upset, confused—or all three?
I print it out. How weird it is to see it written, not bottled up inside. As I walk down the staircase, they creak. It’s a sign—I should turn around. No. I must do this.
As my parents read the letter, a look of confusion spreads across their faces—and I know it’s all because of my first two sentences, “You’ve known me and loved me my whole life and I hope that this doesn’t change that. Over the past few years I’ve come to realize that I am a lesbian.” My dad jerks back in his chair while my mom cups her hand around her mouth. There’s no turning back now. “Maddie are you sure you’re a lesbian? You’re only 16 years old you can’t possibly know that and why didn’t you come to me when you started having these thoughts of liking women?” Tears rush down my face and all I can do is stare at them. My living room will never be the same.
I will forever remember this day as the day I was honest and I can’t help but be relieved—it’s done, over with, finished. I can finally live my life.
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