"You can't drop two bombs on the same city"

I told my sister that I was queer. I had to tell her because it was making me sick, and I couldn't keep it in anymore. I've been having panic attacks and shaky hands all week.

I first went into the basement and told her I was thinking of moving out. She said,

"Are you a lesbian, because that's what mom's going to think."

"No.. but would there be any problem if I was one?"

"So what are you saying?"

It went back and forth like that for awhile. And she'd already asked me a few times if I was a lesbian. There was a little bit of quivering in my voice when I actually told her. We talked about the word "lesbian" and what it meant to her, and what it meant to me. Why I didn't like it, but she did.

Telling my mom I want to move out, is like asking to be shot. I know she's not going to like it, and that's being nice. The walls will shake with her voice. She's not going to make it easy. There's no turning back. It's the "We're renting your room," kind of deal. "If you want to move out, why don't you just pack up and leave now?"

I'm not sure if I'll tell my mother I'm not straight. If she asks me, I'm not going to lie about it. But at the same time, I can't drop two bombs on the same city. I know just moving out might result in a night or two on someone's couch.

I can't gauge how she'll react because she takes everything as personally offensive. She has a selective understanding.

"So he's your boyfriend?"

"No, he's gay."

"Are you sure?"

"He has a boyfriend."

And its probably not going to be as big a deal as I think, but no one knows my mother. All of this might seem really stereotypical, and kind of naive. But, I know she's not going to be ok with it. None of it. Which is why I won't tell her unless she asks.

So if I call you at 2:00am, and slip into your apartment and sleep on your floor, I just wanted to let you know why.