I feel like I am going to drown in a pool of my own blood.
I couldn’t move. I can’t think about anything else. Why can’t they let him be with me? Why can’t I have him? Why do they have to decide what kind of life he has to live? We have been together for eight years. We fell in love when we were in high school. Don’t I deserve an explanation for all my questions?
I can feel few hands lifting me and putting me inside an ambulance. Everything is blurry now except those great memories.
I remember the first time I saw him. I was sitting in front of the principal’s office. It was my first day in the new school. He walked towards me and asked whether I was new and which grade I was in. I wondered what made him question only me considering there were around ten students seated behind. I loved the fact he paid attention to me. I was new yet he cared for me. Since then he made sure I was fine in the school. He was a high school heart-throb and I was his chubby fool. He made sure no one shamed me. He took care of me.
I love him so much.
The siren sounds were interrupting my thoughts. The cuts in my body gave me the stinging pain that would never let me forget the way they beat us and how they took him away. He was unconscious, for God’s sake!
Why didn’t anyone come to rescue us?
Just because they don’t understand what we are, doesn’t mean our love is wrong.
I love him so much.
He always wandered into the novel section of our school library. I have never seen him reading a book but he was there. Every. Freaking. Day. Once, I asked him why and his reply made sure I never asked again. He said “This spot is where you find some cute nerds.” He was sure a jerk. My Jerk.
I never asked him to love me. In fact, he didn’t have an idea that I loved him in the first place. I knew I loved him the moment he mentioned that I look like a wave of ocean. Wonder what made him say that. He always mentioned that I am the best wave in that vast ocean. On our anniversary, I insisted him to explain the phrase and he said “The ocean sends lots of waves to you, like how the earth has too many love stories, but only one wave hits you first, only one story belongs with you. You are that wave. You are my only wave.” And, I melted.
I taught him chess, he taught me to play the guitar. I cooked his favorite food every day, and he sang my favorite songs. He was my ray of hope; my past, present, and future.
God, I can’t take this. It took five whole years before we finally got to stay with each other. We moved in together three years back. Our parents lived in two different states, far from both of us. We happily joined colleges in the same city hoping to stay close together. Now, we work here in Mumbai. This is our city. This is our home. We are family. I am his and he is mine.
We decided to move in together when living apart became too much to handle. We were in love, so what was wrong in moving in together? We never told our parents that we are living with our lovers and they never doubted us. They were living their own busy lives; they never visited us all these years and we have been to both our places but only as friends. We couldn’t tell them what we are.
He asked me to marry him. He said “I can’t wait to spend my life and grow old with you, my Idiot.” I held him tight hoping that we will have a happily ever after.
We decided to get married but only after letting our family know about us. We knew they won’t support us but we were hoping that they will understand us eventually. Neither of us expected such an atrocious act from both sides. My parents made it clear that I am no longer their child. I am no better than dead to them. But, his parents were silent. They said they needed time to think. We never expected this outcome.
What are they going to do to him? Are they going to hurt him more? Are they going to force him to marry someone else?
If you haven’t understood the problem, maybe I should mention a fact. I am Gay. We are Gay.
Yes, now you are disgusted to read my story. Until now, you thought this was a sad saga of a girl and felt her pain as your own. Now that you do know that I am a guy loving another guy, everything feels fake. Doesn’t it?
Why do people care so much about other’s sexual orientation?
Why can’t you all accept that every single human being has a different live and, it’s up to them to live the way they want to?!
I fell in love with him. He fell in love with me. We were together and happy. We couldn’t have had it any other way. Why are we treated this way?
The government doesn’t support us; the society doesn’t care for us. Even our parents didn’t treat us well. We are treated as being worse than garbage. What wrong did we do? We wish to live in a certain way, that’s all. We just wished to live together.
I am in some room of the hospital where I can hear some beeps and some murmurs but nothing clear. I can’t think anything now, I am drowsy. I don’t have any more energy to keep myself up. This is not something I am used to. I really hope that I wake up and see him next to me. If I am going to die, then let this be the last death on this planet because the society can’t accept homosexual relationships.
Every love is same. Love is love. Why can’t one understand that?
God! Please save him.
With that the darkness conquered, the beeping stopped and the love story received an undeserving end.

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From the Origin of time many rise and fall like winter weeds, My identity could not be revealed by anyone, My identity could only be revealed if you know me well. There isn't any great mystery about me. What I do is glamorous and has an awful lot of white-hot attention placed on it. But the actual work requires the same discipline and passion as any job you love doing, be it as a very good pipe fitter or a highly creative artist.