The cold morning air taunted us while we waited.
I took a seat, book in hand and used the words to block out the outside world known as my reality.
I was quite content with how the words seem to wrap themselves around me, warm me, love me then I heard my name.
My name is the only thing that can take the words, twist the words, and break the words so they may come down, no longer able to protect me.
“I keep forgetting that you are gay, you don’t act it.”

Maybe it’s because when words are not enough to keep others out I flip the switch and act straight.
Maybe it’s because I know that expressing my true inner feelings could get eyebrows to raise and eyes to glare, could get people to snicker and laugh behind my back and have their hands protect the words that they let drain into others ears.
Maybe it’s because at home one dim glow of light in any shape or form could make my shoulder freeze as my mother turns to her phone trying her best to ignore me.
Maybe it’s because at school one friend might be the same as me but when their parents arrive I need to protect them like a mother bear protecting the young.
Maybe it’s because I like the things that I do, the things I say, the way I walk, the way I talk, the way I sing, the way I laugh, the way I smile at romance.
Maybe it’s because that’s just the way I am.