I can't believe it's Wednesday again. The week goes so fast, and this week's been a doozie. My son broke his foot at school last Wednesday, at least we think he did. Because of the growth lines on his bones it wasn't possible to tell if he'd broken it, so they've just strapped it up and we have to wait until the x-ray report comes back for them to know. In the meantime he's on crutches - and he's not the most graceful of people at the best of times. He's about the most uncoordinated person I know. He's only 13 but 6ft tall now with huge feet Not fun
This week I chose the kitten, just because I could. It was a bit of a strain but I managed to get it in, because I just adored the picture
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When Robin
heard the steps across the landing, he shivered. Taking a deep breath, he let
it out in a sigh at the tentative knock.
For a moment,
Robin couldn’t speak, then he croaked, “come in,” cursing that it came out as a
croak.
Cyan shuffled
over the threshold, his head down. There was something undeniably endearing
about the way he plucked nervously at the sleeves of his shirt.
“Hey,” Robin
said, and Cyan looked up, biting his lip.
“I’m sorry,”
Cyan said.
“You’ve got
nothing to be sorry about.”
“Yes I do.” He
went on in a rush. “I should never have done it, but it felt so good. I knew it
was wrong, and that something bad would happen, but I— It felt so—
It was like you were my real boyfriend.” He took a deep breath and blurted,
“like you’re not ashamed of me.”
“Ashamed? What
are you talking about? I’m not ashamed of you.”
“Then why did
you run away?” Cyan asked, looking confused.
Robin’s chest
hurt. A sharp pain shot through him. Was this how it felt when your heart broke?
“You thought— You
really thought I ran away because I was ashamed of you? Why would you do that?
Why would you think…?”
“I’m not— I know I’m not…like
other people. And I know I can be…embarrassing. I don’t really know what I did.
Well, yes I guess I do. I was holding your hand in public.” Cyan seemed unsure,
as if he wasn’t certain he’d got it right. “People saw us. People know…about
me. You know, the way I am. That I’m not…normal. They can tell. I know that.
It’s okay. We’ll be boyfriends in secret.”
“Cyan…. You
know why I have a problem with being open. It’s not because I’m ashamed of you.
You know that. It’s because…because I’m not ready for people to know I’m…. To
know about me – not you.”
“Yes, I know
that. I do. I know you’re not ready but…. When you are…. It’s happened before.
More than once. Even with people who do know. Know what they are, I mean. I was
afraid this would happen. Then when it did—”
“I don’t know
what you mean. You said you understood. You said you understood how I feel
about being— about people know I’m— about us.”
“I do, but— I didn’t think… Last
time. When I got hurt. There was someone. I though he…. I thought he would
stay. He wasn’t afraid of people knowing he’s gay, but he was afraid of people
knowing he was with me. They teased him. Called him names. Said the only
boyfriend he could get was a defective one. He looked at me like….” Cyan
dropped his head again. “Like he was ashamed of me. He left me. I was alone.
They…they didn’t hurt me because I’m gay. They hurt me because I’m gay and…and
not…not…right.”
Robin felt
sick. How could anyone do that? To Cyan? To his beautiful angel? Without
realizing what he was doing, he got to his feet and strode across the room to
take a shaking Cyan into his arms.
“Oh God, I’m
sorry. I didn’t run because I’m ashamed of you, Cyan, I swear it. I’d never be
ashamed of you. You’re beautiful, and sweet, and sexy, and…and...brave. You’re
awesome. I ran away because those boys—”
“They were
mean but— It was the way
you looked at me, Robin. You looked at me as if you hated me. That’s when I
knew you were ashamed of me.”
“But I wasn’t. I thought I’d
explained. I wasn’t ashamed of you. I was just scared.”
“I know that now, but that’s not
what I knew then.”
Robin gazed into Cyan’s face and
realized something. He was never going to understand Cyan, not really. Cyan’s
mind worked in such a different way. He’d have to be careful, to make sure as
far as he could that Cyan really understood what he was saying; what he meant.
“I’m sorry, Cyan. I really am. I
wish I could say that it does’t matter – what those boys said; what they did. I
wish I could say that I’ll walk out with you right now, hand in hand. That I’ll
tell everyone in the world how lucky I am to have a wonderful boyfriend like
you – but I can’t. Not yet. And that’s not your fault.”
“I know that – now.”
“I wish I could see the world
through your eyes,” Robin said. “I wish I could think like you. Just for a bit”
Cyan’s jaw went slack. He stared
and tears sprang to his eyes. Robin was scared he’d said the wrong thing again.
But Cyan was smiling.
“No one’s ever said that to me
before,” he said, in a choked voice. “No one’s ever said they want to be like
me. They’ve always tried to get me to think like them; to be like them. Do you
really want to? Do you really want to know what it’s like to be me?”
Robin paused. Did he? He stared
into his boyfriend’s beautiful eyes. They were so full of hope. “Yes,” he said.
“Yes I do. I want to know everything I can about you, so I never, ever make you
feel like that again. So you’ll never think for one minute I’m ashamed of you.
So you know that I— That I really care about you. So tell me. Tell me what it’s
like to be you.”
They sat down on the bed, and
Robin watched Cyan search for the right words. His face was so expressive as he
put the ideas and words together. It was so endearing, so…Cyan. One of his
mother’s favourite sayings sprang to mind – cute as a kitten. Cyan was
definitely kitten-ish at times. Something inside Robin that he’d been holding
tight closed began to open, and he thought. Maybe
it won’t be so bad after all.
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