Blinded by Color

Chapter 29 Jerimiah

My life has turned upside down so quickly, but in a way, I actually feel relieved. I always tried to brave my way through life as a straight man doing all the right things. This reality that my family was actually hiding more skeletons in the closet than a haunted house was proof that I am not all that messed up. I never needed to be afraid of who I was or what I loved. My dad, whom I was never close with and barely remember, clearly had issues keeping it in his pants. My uncle Rodney, the renowned sheriff, was nothing but a dirty cop who broke the law and condemned others for doing it. The funny thing is I always adored my mom, and even she came up empty-handed at acting like a saint. It was all her idea to have the man killed, hide our half-sister from us, and become a drunk. It is amazing that my whole life, I was hiding who I really was in fear of being rejected when everyone around me was hiding more. They walked past me and smiled and hugged me and threw out the "I love yous" and how proud they were of me all while knowing the reason I had no father was their fault. I had a sister I never knew because of them! The only thought that kept brewing in my mind was Kayla! I wonder what secret she was hiding. Little Miss Perfect must be keeping something to herself as well. I mean, she is a product of a disturbed family. I wish I knew what it was because it may help her to stop rejecting everyone else. She has really pointed her nose up like she owns the place and the world owes her a favor. When did being a good daughter ever come with a trophy? Never. You do things because you want to and because they represent who you are and what you stand for. Kayla is suffering, and I miss my sister. I do love her, but I am so content in my life right now, it has no room for hatred. I hope one day she will come around and learn to love and accept me for who I am. I hope she wants to meet Keith and Tiffany. I doubt those terms will come to pass, but one can be hopeful. I haven't decided if I will visit my mom. I feel like I need to go see her for closure. Give her the opportunity to admit her wrongs and accept mine. I want to hear her say that it is okay to be gay. That she loves me no matter what. She owes me that. Like, seriously, mom, you killed my father. You lied about it. You failed as a parent. She can't possibly think she earned the right to judge me. I don't hate her even though I want to a little bit because she was clearly selfish in her reasoning for murdering her husband. Obviously, she was not cut from the tough-ass cloth because the bitch cracked. She literally spiraled out of control, carrying around that baggage. I kind of wonder what she is thinking about now. No alcohol to relieve the pain or make her numb and knocked out. Every day, she has to face her demons head-on. Me sleeping with a man, well, I am not sure that compares to a killer. I am going to run it by Keith, but I think before we leave this God-forsaken town once and for all, I will swing by the county jail. Maybe, just maybe, I can be reminded of the mom I knew and not the Slim she became.