Blog Entry: Remembering tha Good Times

Remembering tha Good Times I was thinking today about a bunch of random shit. And after I was done, I thought to myself, "Damn, my life is boring," and I'm kind of glad it is. I don't really have dreams of being a famous or anything of the sorts. I just want to be a simple person, live in a cozy apartment with someone special and maybe a cat, and work a kind of simple job. It's perfect .

So anyway, one of the things I was thinking about was the first time I came out to anyone. Well, I don't know if it counts as coming out, but still. I was dealing with some gender problems, and figured I had came to a conclusion. So who do I tell? My eighth grade guidance counselor, of course! She has got to be the best woman ever to exsist. She helped me get over friends and a bunch of other boring stuff. So I asked if I could talk to her later in the day, so I came back to her office near the end of the school day. She was busy with other kids, and I suddenly lost my determination. I offered to come back another time, but she told me to stay. I began to fidget because I didn't know what to say, but she was patiently waiting. After I didn't say anything for a couple of minutes, she asked, "Okay, who's been messing with you?" I was suprised and said no one (even though some people had been, but this is not what this is about). I told her it was something about me and it was something I hated so much about myself and yet I couldn't stop feeling it, and then I fidgeted some more. She sighed and said, "Look, I can't help the fact that I like men, so it's okay if you-"
"No, No, No! That's not what this is about!" I was getting a little tired of my cowardice and said the dumbest thing ever.
"I mean, I think I'm the T part in LGBT." And then I burst into tears. I was gulping for air really loudly, and we were in the hallway too, and classes were going on. She ran into her office and got some napkins for me and wiped my face. She told me it was alright and I was normal and it wasn't a bad thing. She sent me back to class, telling me she'll send something for me in the mail.
Later that week, she pulled me out of class to give me a little note. It said, "Thank you for trusting me enough to be open with me."
I really do love that's woman. I was right to tell her, even though it was kind of...iffy.
Wow! That was long. Whoops. I just thought I'd share a bit.