11:11 PM

You stand in the kitchen.

Removing the cap from your beer you lean, uneasily, against the sideboard.

As you throw the cap across the room into the bin; your father enters hastily, across the space, into the the bathroom.

You hear the ker-snick of the lock.

Having travelled down to home with the sole intention of coming out to him... finally... it seems a shame that three days have passed since your return and you still haven't even attempted to bring it up.

It's a big deal. It was never going to be like telling Mum, or James.

You and Dad haven't always been 'tight'. In fact. You used to treat each other like strangers.

It was horrible.

Luckily; as time went on, you discovered that you shared a love for the same bands and films.

Your first concert experience was with him. You stayed up till three in the morning talking about Pulp Fiction. Before you went to University, you got pissed in the dining room and he ended up advising you which illegal drugs to experiment with...

Suddenly you understood each other. It was like discovering you could speak Parseltongue.

And years later - here you are; before the Basilisk and speechless...

.....But it has never seemed like 'the right time'!

You were alone together yesterday morning eating breakfast. It was too early.

You were alone together at lunchtime when he came home for a sandwich. You didn't want him to go back to work with it on his mind.

You will be alone together in a few moments when he completes his bedtime routine by making himself a cup of tea in the kitchen before retiring to his room. It's definitely too late in the evening.

...

You plan to tell him. Before you leave.

You calculate when you will see him tomorrow and realise that you will have to leave for your train before he gets back from work. So unless you get up at 8 in the morning to speak to him then it's too late

You've had all day! What have you been playing at?!

You can book another trip down next weekend and tell him then? If you can get work off. Which is unlikely. He goes on holiday the following weekend for three weeks so it will actually be next month before you see him again.

Shit.

The lock clicks and he comes walking into the kitchen, redoing his belt.

"Well... Goodnight"

he mumbles as he shuffles toward the hallway.

What about the tea?!!! Shit. Shit. He's going. Shit.

"Are you okay?"

He's looking at you. He looks confused. You become aware of just how panicky your face must look...

Fuck.

"Nothing"

That answer doesn't make sense!

"I mean, yeah I'm fine"

"Are you SURE...?"

No.

...

"Dad I need to talk to you about something"

Wait. WAIT. NO! SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT

"Yeah...?"

SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT SHIT.

....He's waiting....

....

"Well..."

-You know ages ago when... nah...

"Basically..."

-I'm attracted to guys? Urgh no...

"Well, the thing is"

His face has dropped completely, he looks serious. Negatively so. Shit.

"It's nothing bad or anything."

"Just spit it out."

He has stopped moving entirely and he is looking straight at you. SHIT.

"I'm bisexual. Basically."

URGH! No No NO! - That came out far too blunt! CRINGE.

"Basically... Well; Yeah... Basically.... Yeah."

STOP SAYING FUCKING BASICALLY.

Silence...

He hasn't spoken. OH FUCK.

"Riight...."

.......

...?!

A million years pass...

"Have you told your mum?"

"Yeah"

"Right... What did she say?"

"Well... nothing really..."

"Right..."

You have to speak. He has to understand. Why isn't he asking more questions?! Mum had plenty! Shit. DIS. LIKE.

"The thing is Dad. I told mum and James ages ago. Like in February"

"Okay... well that's not AGES ago..."

Why is that relevant?!

"And I think I have been putting off telling you because..."

Oh Jesus.

"Well, I think we haven't always been close like you and James are. 

But I think we have got more in common and got closer as I have gotten older..."

"Yeah. I think thats true..."

"And I just didn't want this to be something that fucks it up basically"

You just swore. Did you just swear? YOU JUST SWORE. AT YOUR FATHER. AND YOU JUST SAID BASICALLY.

He's looking at you. But he looks...

He looks like he might cry?!

Jesus. Please don't. You can't take it... Your heart is beating so fast you've have gone deaf. He's definitely saying words as he walks over to you but you can't hear him.

He hugs you.

A hug? really?

"Don't worry about it"

You discuss. Well he asks questions. You talk. You give him only the answers. You don't elaborate, or over describe. You keep it minimal. You don't want to accidentally scar him. Eventually he stops.

"Well if it's alright I'm gonna go to bed."

Really? That's... That's it?

"Okay... Goodnight"

He leaves. Your knees feel like someone has wedged soft cheese into the joints. You lean on the sideboard for support. You look down at it to discover during your talk you have, unknowingly, torn the label off your beer and shredded it into small pieces all over the counter.

You clean it up and then you just stand there.

Something doesn't seem. Normal.

Where's the buzz? The 'woo-hoo he knows' feeling? Everything feels off angle. Disbalanced.

James comes in and you start to update him.

He doesn't say anything helpful.

Great.

Mid-conversation Dad returns. This time in a towel:

"So wait a minute...
If you're gay; then how come your room's always so fucking untidy?"

...And the balance is restored.


Sam