With a Flourish of Angst

*The following has been rated R for profanity, sexual references and a flourish of angst.*

I am such a masochist. I think I should get that out of the way before we move on. Not a sexual masochist, where I'm turned on by my own pain, but incredibly incredibly emotional masochist. Despite knowing I will kill myself inside later or how much it hurts right now, I love doing things that I know hurt. Like rereading Breaking Dawn.

My friend Angie borrowed a trilogy of books about three gay high school students being angsty and falling in love with each other and shit like that. "The gay Twilight," she called it. The books have been living at her house for nearly two years now, and so of course I had to reread them now that I'd gotten them back. How the hell could I forget that everything turns out great in the end? That everybody gets who they want, and everything gets sorted out, and the only casualties along the way are a bruised ego or two and a turned-down college? That nobody gets a broken heart for more than fifty pages at a time? That everybody ends up with "peace, joy, love, and lots of hot, groovy sex"?

It's a fucking teen movie, for God's sake. I want my life to be a teen movie, with the cookie-cutter characters and see-through plot twists and ending scene where we're making out on somebody's hood at night as the camera pans out to reveal the secluded forest around us, with some sort of soft-piano-solo song playing in the background. (I've even started compiling a soundtrack for my life.)

I want it all so bad. I want the safety and predictability of it. I want the knowledge that I will get who I want in the end, no matter how unlikely it is that they'll end up with me. Fuck it, I just want something in return.

I am getting so damn sick of giving and giving and giving and giving. I'm being sucked dry here, attacked from all sides. I've got the straight girl friends who bitch about their tragic romances or lack thereof. I've got the stupid bastards making my life miserable with the names and slurs and looks that make me want to die. I've got the constant effort it takes to at least look happy most of the time—actually achieving happiness takes so much more. I've got this sense of advocacy to deal with, trying so hard to make a change against something that isn't giving, trying to make a difference to my school and the people in it. Everything is taking, and all I'm doing is giving.

Why the fuck can't I get something back? What's wrong with a little reciprocity here? Why should I be doing all this work and getting none of the benefits? Why am I even bothering at this point? There's no damn reason to keep working to change things, or be the constant shoulder to cry on. I shouldn't have to offer "words of wisdom" to people who need a boost in their life—find your support elsewhere for once.

And everything keeps adding up. Coming out? Still not done with that. Every time I meet new people I have to go through that again. My aunt today sent me a note on Facebook: "have you decided to be gay? just privately wondering. " I've got a family gathering tomorrow for LDS Conference—what am I supposed to say to her? What am I supposed to say to anybody?

I feel like crying and throwing up. I want to hurt myself. (Don't worry, I never do any more. Your concern is appreciated.) I want to get rid of this huge pit in my chest, the one that eats away at everything I am until I feel like there's nothing left of me. I want to read the teen-movie stories again. I want to watch the teen-movies. I want a family that can sit at the table together without having a fight. I want some order to my life. I want to go back to fucking second grade where sex and hormones didn't matter and it was just friends with everything.

I just want too damn much.