It takes me a hot second to realize he’s talking about sex. Always a pleasure talking to your parents about your sex life, I’d say.
I’d like to remind him that men have their g-spot in their ass, but if I did that, I’d be a guy without a family in about two seconds.
“You’re supposed to build a family. With awife.How do you expect to have kids of your own when you datemen? How do you expect to expand this family in a proper way when the places you stick your dick are other men’s asses rather than where they belong!”
Oh, okay. That’s all sorts of wrong.
With all that was wrong with his statement, the outdated view on women my father has bugs me the most.
Even if I didn’t date men or had sex with them, my dick still didn’t belong inside a woman’s pussy the way he makes it out to be. We’re not in the 1790s anymore when women were useless without a man, when they had to do as they’ve been told and wouldn’t dare talking back, when their bodies belonged to men.
Women have choices,voices. Even if some old white men think they have the rights over women’s bodies. Why the fuck are we going back in time instead of evolving?
“ANSWER ME.”
“What am I supposed to—”
“You will not see that guy again,” my father says in a strict tone. It’s not a question, it’s a demand and if I don’t stick to the rules, it’ll end badly for me. I know that much. “I will set you up for a date with someone’s daughter from my company.”
“No.” Shit, I’ve never said no to him in my entire life. Four years ago I would’ve nodded and agreed to a stupid date I didn’t want to go on. In my head, I know I should’ve done the same right now, but my mouth just didn’t want to form the wordokay.
My father cocks his head, eyebrows rising, eyes filling with fire now. “No?”
“Yes, I said no. I will not go on some stupid date with someone I don’t want to be with. Besides, he and I arefriends.” I don’t say Luan’s name for a reason. “Like Miles and I.”
“Friends,” he repeats, once more raising his voice. “That guy is trouble!” He points toward the gates, making it obvious he means Luan, not Miles. “I’ve watched you!”
Should’ve known he would.
“Are you dating him?” Father asks, giving me a solid 0.5 seconds to respond before he repeats the question, yelling this time.
“No.” But I thought I answered that one before.
“Well, I don’t believe you.”
Aw, come on. What the fuck does he want me to do to prove it? I know something, but that’s likely not going to happen.
I could go on that stupid date he wants to set up, date that woman but I just know I’d never feel anything for her. Okay, I might eventually, but I refuse to put someone through misery only for me to not get in trouble with my father.
And even if I didn’t care, I simply don’t want my father to set me up with someone. I want to be with whoeverIdecide to be with. It doesn’t have to be Luan, that’s most likely not going to happen anyway due to the distance between us.
Whether I end up with a woman or anyone else, it shouldn’t matter to my father as long as I am happy. I really want to be happy and grow old with someone I truly love rather than being forced into loving.
“You should be with someone you weremeantto be with, Grey.”
What if I was meant to be with a guy?He wouldn’t want to hear that question even if I voiced it.
“Are you even listening to me, boy!”
“I don’t have any other choice, do I?” It’s pretty impossible not to hear him when he stands right in front of me.
For the next several minutes, my father yells at me about how ungrateful I am, how he’s given me everything, and how I can’t even be a “normal” person. He yells at me about how I am a disgusting piece of shit just because I do things that are inhuman tohim. He calls me the nastiest of words, says I’m not someone he could ever be proud of only because I am not straight.
It’s one thing to have random people insult you because you’re not part of the norm, it’s another thing when your own family sees you as unnatural, someone they have to hide, someone they pretend doesn’t exist because of it.
Moments like these make me wish I was a part of what people like my father call “normal”. It makes me think something’s wrong with me when I know I’m totally fine. It’s okay to be someone like me. It’s okay to not put a label on your sexuality or one that says anything but “straight”. And still, it’s easier to support than be part of the group because the hate you get sometimes doesn’t seem worth it at all.
“When your friends leave in a few days, you can leave right with them. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
