You remember when you were little of how you liked to dress up in Mommy's clothing and how you always thought her make up was pretty. You remember your Dad severely beating you after you said you wanted a Barbie doll. Oh why didn't he just let you be who you were? You've had to deny yourself of your true feeling all this time. Oh it's just so sad…

THAT'S why you're so depressed! THAT'S why you don't feel like you fit in! THAT'S why you longingly look at all the rest of guys in the shower room wishing that you were the bar of soap they use…

But first things first! You've just come to accept the fact that you're gay. Now the really hard part begins. Are you going to proudly come out in pink colored hot pants and announce it to everyone or are you going to hide in the closet like a scared little Nancy boy?

You hell no! Your Dad would kick your limp wristed ass!

While you've fully accepted the fact that you're pickle puffer, you decide it would be best if you kept this secret from not just your parents, but from everyone in general. Keeping a low profile is now more vital than ever, so you proceed with your life as usual, but a little happier, now that you've come to grips with who you are.

However, you still have all those throbbing gay URGES that aren't going to let themselves be hidden for long…

A little time goes by you manage to fine tune your new gay abilities, most notably your gaydar. Surprisingly you pick up on more people than you would've thought, but you still have to play it safe and pick someone who isn't going to be in denial or worse, your gaydar is off and you hit on someone who tries to kill you.

Eventually you manage to pick out some guy who fancies himself as an artist. He picks up on your gay vibes as well, and you two sneak off together every now and then to have a gay old time.

Everything is going without any problems until he wants to come out of the fucking closet and express your forbidden love to everyone, while you want to not only stay in the closet, but also hide under the pile of dirty moth eaten clothing in there as well. You attempt to reason with him, but he throws a hissy fit and is determined to go through with his plan with or without you.

But you can't do it, because deep down you're secretly ashamed of who you are!

Your boyfriend is also ashamed, ashamed of you that is. He immediately breaks up with you, scolding you that you both have a "duty" to the gay community to make a stand when you can and that if you can't do that then he doesn't see a future for the both of you.

You'd probably go home and cry like a bitch, but you're more worried that your ex is going to "out" you. To his credit, he doesn't, but unfortunately his "stand" doesn't do him any good.

You see him mercilessly taunted and beaten by other guys on a practically daily basis. Sometime during these times, he sees you standing there doing nothing, you can tell in his eyes that he's looking for you to help, but you just can't you're too much of a coward. Eventually he's killed by a couple of rednecks and left in a ditch somewhere. There's no sympathy or anything over his death, you don't even attend his funeral for your continued fear of being outed which you still have which has only increased by your ex's murder.

The guilt begins to consume you on top of the fear and you just can't take it anymore. Is this what your life is going to be like? Forever sneaking around trying to cover up your sinful sexual preference? Oh sure you could eventually move away to a more gay friendly place, but you just can't wait that long and you feel trapped…can't breath!

"AAAAARGH! I'M GAY AND I CAN'T LIVE LIKE THIS! ARRRRRGH!" you stand up and scream in the middle of class before you run and jump to your death out the window.

Surprisingly your death has somewhat of an effect on the people. Oh not anything forward thinking like displaying open mindedness that could've prevented two deaths, but more along the lines that the students who were in your class when you killed yourself get a week off for seeing something so traumatic. Most of them go get drunk and party, but nobody's mourning the death of some suicidal faggot.

At your barely attended funeral, your Dad doesn't even cry out "I love my gay son!" In fact he's asleep the whole time.

The moral of the story?

Perhaps if you'd stood by your life partner, you wouldn't have died a self-loathing coward and betrayer. That's how Judas died you know. Oh sure MAYBE you would've gotten killed by the rednecks too, but at least you would've been taking a fucking stand. Hell, maybe you wouldn't have gotten killed. Maybe you might've been able to fight them off and from that victory, other gays in the closet would've come out and been proud of who they were too! Then you could've had parade with rainbows and even a same sex prom!

But of course you'll never know that because you didn't stand up for yourself and died a cowardly little bitch!

And now you know!