The world hates us. We are vile... disgusting creatures to them, or so I'm reminded everyday by my family, the media, people I don't even know. Our fate is decided upon our birth. I play along and hide, but I long, I want, and I need... just like them. How ironic that people praise life as being so precious but they have no problem destroying it, destroying me, a homosexual. Sometimes I sit in the dark when the world is sleeping and I try so hard to will myself out of existence. Maybe, maybe if I think hard enough I'll succeed. I wasn't always this unhappy. I will say there was a time when I much younger, when I was actually happy, before I really knew who... what I was. The only person I would attempt to call a friend is a boy I knew when I was a child. I knew him from the age of eight to thirteen and we did everything together. It wasn't until I was 9 that I had feelings about him. I was thirteen when I acted on them and I kissed him, he called me a ******, and hit me. We stopped talking after that and he refused to see me whenever I went over to his house. He never told anyone about me but he left and moved to his Dad's house in a different state a month afterwards and that was the end of that. How funny that even after ten years I can think about it and still get hurt. It really hurts, I was betrayed. I haven't gotten close to anyone ever since. It shouldn’t be so difficult to live the way that I am, but I've lived in a closet my entire life because of what I am, because of others who would judge me. I'm twenty three years old and I've never had a friend, a real friend, or any kind of relationship. I feel like I'm defective and unfit to be loved. Is it wrong to want to take the easy way out? Suicide is such an odd thing. I want it but at the same time I don't.