Does it get better?

    I know, I should make a video with everything I'm going to write here, but I am shy (and I'm not out).
    I'm just writting it because I really feel like I need help.
    I want to tell the world that I am gay, and when I say that I want to tell the world I mean my mother. I think she is the only person that really matters when it comes to telling that I am gay.
    In an older post here I wrote that my mother would accept it, but the most I think about her I realize that things would never be so easy. Everytime that somebody here says something about gays she says that if she was one she would never tell. She is the kind of person who says: "It is okay to be gay, but not in my house."
    When I was younger she asked me if I was gay. I was fourteen. I remember that I told her that I wasn't ready to talk about it. She said that she would be okay with it. She said that she would love me the same way she did. Beautiful lines, aren't they?
    Well, things changed. We are not as connected as we used to be. Nowadays we are two stranges living under the same roof. Day by day we get more apart. And she acts as if our conversation never happend. She talks about me married with a girl and with kids. Well, this is not me.
    I don't want to hide it anymore because it makes me sad and I don't think that being gay is wrong. Why do I have to hide something if I don't think it is wrong? Everyday I think about killing be. I've been saving all my thoughts just for me. Sometimes I write them donw in a piece of paper, sometimes I talk about them with the mirror. It is killing me day by day.
    I used to complain about the thinks I was feeling, but people would just roll their eyes and say that I was just trying to call everybody's attention. This is not me. I mean, I would like to have attention, but I would never say that I want to die to call attention. I just wanted somebody to talk to me, somebody to say that everything was going to be okay.
    I try to look okay, but I know that I am not a good actor. When I look at the mirror I see the sadness in my eyes. The thing is that I am the only person in this world who cares about it.
    I hate myself, most of the time. I look at me and I want to cut myself to look different, to be someone else. I just gave up on me. You know that things are not okay when you start saying to yourself that you don't deserve to be loved. Now I look like a homeless person. I keep saying that I don't care, but I do. If I was okay with everything I wouldn't be as wounded as I am.
    What can I do to feel better? I don't know what to do. I keep trying to help people, but I need help too. When you open the blog everything you see are pictures of happy couples kissing each other. I made this. It is jus a thing that I really wanted, but I just found out that I'll never have. When you grow up you realize that happiness is not a thing that everyone can have. Some people have to be sad, so other people will know they are happy.
    I have a friend. I told him that I was gay (well, he told me that he was gay and then I told him that I was gay.) Talk to him really helps me. I like to know that I can be myself with someone. But I can't talk to him about everything. All the time I want to complain about something, and it's not good to drown people with our complaints. Everybody has problems.
    I'm feeling really lonely right now. Well, not right now. I'm always lonely. I could be in the middle of a crowded place and I would feel like I was alone, because that is the truth, isn't it? We are all alone, lost in our minds.
    Will it get better someday? I just can't stand this anymore. That's why I keep thinking about killing myself. I feel like I was immortal, just to remain here and suffer forever. I've seen my future and nothing changed. When I go out I think about throwing myself in front of a car or jumping in a river. I just want to put an end in this pain I've been carrying for so long.
    I would never write it here. This kind of thing I keep in my mind or write in my journal. In my journal nobody rolls eyes or labels me. I just want to scream and put this out of my body, out of my mind.
    I wish I was happy. At least for one day. I wish I could be me without being pointed as a freak.
    I think I should just lie down and try to forget everything. The wight I've been carrying on my shoulders is killing me. Slowly.
    Does it get better?
    Will it get better someday?
    Just tell me that there's a way out of all this shit...

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