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"Fuck!"

I wake up to a large bang, startled by the noise and my unfamiliar surroundings.

I'm met with a boy so attractive that I wonder if I'm still dreaming. He's tanned with brown hair that's a little longer than mine, which most of it is hidden by a black beanie. He's wearing dark black sunglasses which make the rest of his face pop, his full pink lips, his shimmery silver nose ring. He's sporting a tank that shows his slim but masculine arms and tight black skinny jeans that accentuate his legs.

Unfortunately, he seems to be recovering from a fall that I now realise had been caused by my suitcase which I stupidly left in the walkway.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry." I apologise sincerely, pulling my suitcase off the floor and onto my bed to prevent any further accidents.

"Why would you leave that there?" he snaps, looking past me at the wall.

"I'm sorry, it was stupid, I didn't think." I sigh, then fall quiet as I realise the damage has been done and there's not really much my words can fix.

I find myself staring at the boy in front of me, initially searching for the right words, but I soon give up on that and am left more or less gawking at his shear hotness.

"You can stop staring now. I'm blind. I know." He mutters seeming frustrated.

I'm about to say something about how he's not blind and it was my fault for leaving the suitcase right in front of the door but then I realise what he meant. He's blind. Like actually blind. 

"Oh, oh, I wasn't staring because..." I trail off and stop myself because I'm only digging myself a deeper hole.

Great, within the first thirty seconds of us meeting, I've managed to not only severely embarrass myself but also my roommate. 

I want to apologise again but I can hear myself getting annoying so I just move on.

"I'm Kellin." I introduce awkwardly. "Um, I guess we're roommates."

I'm blushing so furiously that for a split second I'm thankful he's blind but then I wonder if that's an offensive thought.

"Vic." he mutters, then he heads over to his bed. "If we're going to be roommates, you need to keep the floor clear."

I nod and swallow hard but then realise he can't see me.

"Yes, of course. Not a problem." I spit out.

My eyes fall to Vic's nightstand and I realize that the metal stick is actually a support cane. My eyes go back to Vic who is adjusting his beanie. There's a thick, tense silence between us and I wish I could say something to diffuse it but I can't think of anything.

I then suddenly remember that I have somewhere to be. I search around for my phone and check the time, discovering that I'm already five minutes late for my session.

"Fuck," I mutter, brushing down my messed up hair with my fingers.

I find my keycard and shove it in my pocket along with my phone.

"I need to go." I state generally, or maybe it's directed towards Vic. I don't know. I don't know if he cares.

I don't wait for any type of response before I leave.

It takes me less than ten minutes to get to my therapist's office. She gives me a look as she lets me in, as if to say I did this purposely.

"I'm sorry to keep you waiting." I apologise as I take a seat in my regular chair.

"What has made you late?" Dr. Levit asks as she sits across from me.

"I fell asleep and then had an incident with my roommate." I sigh stressed.

"You've met your roommate!" She smiles and I nod, not feeling as enthusiastic as she is. "What was the incident?"

"I left my suitcase in front of the door and he tripped over it, because he's blind. And I didn't know he was blind and I guess I was staring and he thought I was staring at him because he's blind and now I've made him uncomfortable." I ramble.

"Why were you staring at him?" she asks, like that was main point of what I just said.

I blush and look down at my hands.

"He was attractive, I guess." I mumble shyly. 

The aloud admission makes me feel a little nauseated.

"That's okay. Some people startle us with their beauty. We stare. It happens. I'm sure he'll forget about it soon enough." She says.

I just nod and play with my fingers.

"So what is his name?" Dr. Levit asks.

"Vic." I answer.

"Is Vic someone you can see yourself becoming friends with? You're rooming together so it'd be best if you had some kind of rapport."

Her question makes me tense up.

"I don't know." I whisper.

She stays silent, encouraging me to elaborate.

"He's attractive. And he's gay." I say softly, turning my head to the wall. I stare at the painted bowl of fruit on the wall so I don't have to look at her.

"Boyfriend?" she smiles, misunderstanding what I meant.

"No, God, no. I just..." I trail off and sigh.

"Kellin, you're gay." She tells me.

"I know that." I huff frustrated.

"Well then why does his sexuality make you so uncomfortable?" She asks, as if she doesn't know why I've been coming to see her for the last three years.

"He has a flag." I sigh.

"A flag?" She prompts.

"Like a pride flag. It hangs above his bed." I explain.

"And why does that bother you?" 

I sink in my chair. I've been coming here for such a long time and this entire ordeal still makes me squeamish. I hate talking about my feelings. It's not how I was raised. 

Some days are better than others though. Today has just been a lot.

"I just don't understand how he can be so open about it, you know?" I breathe.

"I assume he's proud of his sexuality and who he is." 

I just nod at her statement, unsure of how to respond to that.

"How are you feelings towards him and his sexuality? Are you repulsed? Hateful? What is it?" she asks.

I frown, trying to pinpoint the emotion inside of me. When you spend so many years repressing your feelings, it becomes hard to understand them.

"I'm jealous." I decide.

She smiles at that.

"That's great, Kellin." she says.

"It is?" I frown.

"Yeah! Definitely." she grins. "If we had this conversation only a year ago, you would have said disgusted. You're showing outstanding growth. And to be jealous, that's wonderful. That shows that you aim to be comfortable with your sexuality one day." 

I sigh relieved. Majority of the time I question whether all this is worth it, whether it's actually helping.

"It's like I'm at the point where I'm okay with other queer people, but I just struggle being okay with myself as a queer person." I explain.

"Where do you think that stems from? Why do you think this shame is only directed at yourself?"

This is something I've thought about a lot and it all comes down to the moment that caused this self-hatred.

"When my father caught Lucas and I together, he hardly even acknowledged Lucas. His anger was directed toward me. I think in that moment, I learned that I should should hate this part of myself, because this is my flaw, no one else's." I explain, bringing my hand to my cheek as I'm reminded of the incident that happened nearly six years ago now.

"Hold on a minute, we've talked about this." Dr. Levit says sternly.

"My sexuality is not a flaw." I say aloud, the words that I still struggle to ingrain into my beliefs.

"That's right." she chirps. "Now, you're touching your scar."

I self-consciously drop my hand from my cheek.

"I just hate it. I hate being reminded that it's there." I mumble.

I always try so hard to avoid mentioning the pink, prominent scar that travels from my jaw to under my eye. I hate drawing more attention to it than it already captures.

"I assume it made things hard for you today." Dr. Levit states sympathetically.

"I hate public places so much." I sigh. "I feel like everyone I walked past today just stared. Is it bad that I'm a little grateful that my roommate is blind?"

"I don't think it's bad. Maybe a little sad. You would rather people not be able to see you than for them to see you as you are." She explains.

"It's not something I can just be proud of though." I snap, a little hostile. "I didn't get it doing something amazing or heroic. My dad found me kissing a boy and smashed a bottle across my face."

"You were being yourself. I think that's both amazing and heroic." she smiles.

Her words calm me and bring a sad, but grateful, smile to my face.

"I just wish it wasn't so hard to be myself." I sigh.

"I know. But we'll keep working on it and it'll become easier. This is a slow process, but it's a rewarding one. And don't forget, we are making progress." she explains.

"Sometimes it doesn't feel like it." I sigh softly.

"Don't you remember when you first started seeing me?" she smiles. "It took you six months to accept that you were attracted to men and then another six months before you started to see it as a sexuality and not a disease. You've made amazing progress, Kellin."

That makes me smile. I guess she's right. I have fewer moments where I revert back to my "I could be straight" mentalitily. It was exhausting pretending to be something I wasn't and repressing who I really was. Now that I've gotten past the denial stage, I need to keep fighting to accept this part of myself, and hopefully one day learn to love it.

Perhaps one day I'll get to the point where the bad moments don't exist at all, I can be myself without feeling sick to my stomach about it, and maybe one day, just one day, I'll be able to hang a rainbow flag on my wall. 

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