Well, I’m slowly beginning to writing down a story. Maybe it is even not the story… but a thoughtful travel.
It was a never-ending loneliness. My soul, my thoughts, my life… all that surround me were sick and weak such as a withering leaf in a fall. My heavy hand searched to an another warm hand, my eyes looked for another kind eyes to say it slowly: «I’m depressed… I’m so cold and empty… Help me…»
There’s many silly apps for dating, where only a beautiful face, an age and a gender are interest users. And no one is interested in an another one’s heart. «Slowly» became my pearl that I recovered from the bottom of the devastated gray sea.
Nervously I wrote my first letters. I decided to tell the world that I feel, but I was afraid of people. I was afraid of me and my feelings — they were always hidden on the dark and dusty shelf of the heart.
I received my first answers and… I was surprised… I’m not alone. And people won’t hurt me. Even… they can understand me.
I find so much wisdom. So much friendliness. I become social. I told, I was afraid of people. I thought that I should to know a person first, and after I can tell some my deep feelings. But my penpal said: «I have never met a person, with whom I can become close by discussing hometasks and series». I understood that I can trust people and share with them thoughts.
I find so many people like me. So much love. There’s still blossom out a homophobia in Russia. And I cannot say aloud: I’m gay. I thought that I never can be understood and accepted. My penpal sent me warm hugs with these words: «Sexuality doesn’t change anything about someone’s heart». Here I always have a friend, who really supports me.
And when I again slowly type a letter, I know: I can be heard by whole the world. We all can be heard and listen to each other.