Obscured By Clouds

From time to time random memories of my childhood resurface. Memories from when my mind was simple. From when I didn't bother to understand myself because I was too busy dusting up a pair of Nikes. From when I didn't even understand a majority of the words I use to describe myself today. Before I started hacking away at the ivy covering the confusing and radical parts of my mind, I was that energetic child. I didn't delve into who I thought I was, because I was too young to understand myself yet. I thought on the surface. However, surface ideas were like plants, above ground they're bright and pretty, but underground they're dirty and ugly. The roots stick too far into the ground, and by the time you've pulled them up half the ground around the plant is ruined.

I specifically remembered thinking about the pink and white clouds during a sunset, and why kids always preferred a specific color over the other. The girls would say pink, boys would say white, but I always found both pretty. I wondered why people picked sides, and why only the boys liked white, and why I thought the pink clouds were pretty even when all the other boys hated them, and why one friend thought only the pink clouds were pretty even though he was a boy too, and why I couldn't even be like him since I still liked white and he hated it. I guess it was an early conception of some idea I wrote in a notebook somewhere only to be left behind whenever we moved house, but that's not really important. What's important to me is that I never told anyone I liked the pink clouds. I guess I thought I'd be made fun of for liking the pink clouds, because I was a boy. Even if I still liked the white clouds. Even if I was told to "be yourself", I didn't want to think about the pink clouds, and I didn't know why.

Eventually we grew up from staring at the sky and were forced to look onwards towards our futures. We heard threats of high school thrown around by our teachers more often. They told us our grades would matter and we couldn't spend time lying down staring at the sky anymore. But it was weird because it felt like what clouds we liked still played a role in our lives. My friend who liked the pink clouds slowly moved away from us boys, and started hanging out with the girls who also liked the pink, or sometimes just solo. It was like the clouds connected people on a deeper level than I previously thought. It was more than a gender thing, maybe it was a personality thing. I knew this when the boys started using new words to describe the boy who liked the pink clouds. First it was "girl", which was weird to me because he was a boy. Then it became "gay", which I didn't understand yet. It eventually turned into slurs and hate towards the boy who liked the pink clouds, the boy who couldn't be my friend anymore because he was "gay".

I'd move away from that city that same year, and after a while forgot about the boy who liked the pink clouds. In fact I forgot about the clouds entirely. I lived my life normally, until I moved again to a place a lot further from home. It was meant to be a place of freedom. A place where I could "learn more about myself", according to my parents. And I did. About a year ago I thought about the clouds again because now I knew what they actually meant.

About a year ago, I fell in love with him. I was confused. I dated girls, I liked girls, I still liked girls. I thought I liked white clouds, but now the pink ones began to glow again. I didn't know what to do. I still don't, even though I don't love him anymore. It just didn't make sense. He was handsome and pretty and everything that I dreamed of in a partner, even though he was a man. I thought it was just a phase. A phase I wanted to end fast. A phase I wanted to end so fast I told myself I only liked him because I liked her, his girlfriend, that it was all a lie to get to her, even though I never loved her.

It hurts to have your picture of yourself torn apart. I didn't tell anyone how split I was for a while, until I finally told my best friend. I was scared of telling her, even though I knew she would be happy. I was worried she'd be upset with me for not telling her sooner, or that she would find it weird to talk with me about it, or she'd tell the whole school even though I knew she wouldn't. But when I told her, she understood me. She gazed upon the pink and white clouds too. She was able to look me in the eye and tell me that everything would be ok, and everyone would be fine with it, and if they weren't fine with it they don't matter anyway. When she hugged me, it finally felt cemented as part of me. No matter where I would be in the world, there would be someone who knew, someone who held the burden of that secret when I couldn't carry it alone. Most importantly, no matter where I would be in the world, I was me. I finally had a grasp of the answer to the question that plagued my childhood. I like pink and white clouds because the clouds represent people. I like pink and white clouds because they represent you and me and everyone else in this world. I like pink and white clouds because I'm bi.

It's kind of crazy to me how two words carry so much weight, how two words can make or ruin lives. They carry so much weight that I had to wait until I had the ability to leave to say it, and that I need to spend hours writing a letter to actually explain it. For whoever is reading this, I owe you my thanks. Truly, from the bottom of my heart, I hope you get something out of this. I hope this can mean as much to you as it means to me. For the people who will accept me as I am, thank you. I owe you everything. The people who won't, that's fine too. No matter what happens now, when I grow older I'll still be able to wake up next to a pretty girlfriend, or a pretty boyfriend. Maybe they'd be my wife or husband, but I'd still call them girlfriend or boyfriend because it'd remind me of the day I confessed my love to them for the first time, and I could be even happier remembering the smile that crept across their face as they said yes. I could remember when we went out for food soon after, and when we kissed for the first time. I could remember all those nice memories you make with a lover. No matter your sexuality you should enjoy those memories. I hope you can find someone like that for you, because everyone deserves love. Without love we probably all go insane. 

I also hope that in the future the clouds don't matter anymore. They may have helped me in the past, but I don't want more kids to base their personality on them. I don't want to see more kids end up like the boy who only liked pink clouds. I don't want people to hear hate from their friends because of the clouds. 

I hope it rains in future. I hope the clouds turn to water. I hope the water turns to puddles. I hope instead of staring at the clouds, kids can stare into the puddles. I hope instead of thinking of their love for pink or white, the puddles can show the reflection of themselves. I don't want people to see the division between pink and white clouds. I want people to look into the mirrors made of water and see the unity that holds themselves together. I want that unity to be brighter than the shine of the sun through the clouds. Because all you ever need to understand yourself is you, and no matter how pretty a sunset is it'll never be prettier than the beautiful soul you are.