I went to a Catholic high school. For four, very long years I was the only open homosexual.
I suffered more than I’ll ever let on.
One night I was cornered and beaten by several members of the football team. I went to the principal and he basically told me it was my fault, I had no proof and he could do nothing. They broke my nose, my collarbone and most importantly, my spirit.
I was hopeless. I tried to commit suicide. I had the gun in my hand, my letters written. But what saved me wasn’t a phone call. It wasn’t someone showing up. But a memory.
“Kevin, I’ll always love you; just don’t give up.”
My mom told me that when I came out to her. I put the gun down and cried.
And she’ll never know how she saved me.