All I Have to Offer
A few months ago I wrote a few words about why I can’t say “Love the sinner, hate the sin” anymore. This is the story behind the words:
Before I even read between the lines, I knew what you were really saying.
“Angry.”
“Struggling.”
“Confused.”
“Alone.”
We had been friends for a while, in the very loose sense that people our age use that word. Friends. We passed each other from time to time on the internet. We have never met in “real life”.
But you wanted to know if you could talk to me.
Pacing in my backyard with they phone pressed to my ear, the first time I heard your voice you were saying “I’m gay.”
All I Have to Offer
A few months ago I wrote a few words about why I can’t say “Love the sinner, hate the sin” anymore. This is the story behind the words:
Before I even read between the lines, I knew what you were really saying.
“Angry.”
“Struggling.”
“Confused.”
“Alone.”
We had been friends for a while, in the very loose sense that people our age use that word. Friends. We passed each other from time to time on the internet. We have never met in “real life”.
But you wanted to know if you could talk to me.
Pacing in my backyard with they phone pressed to my ear, the first time I heard your voice you were saying “I’m gay.”