The minute I turned 18, I picked my bags up, and left.

I'm not kidding. I left at midnight.

Probably not the safest, but I preferred that to having my father throw my bags out of the house.

I left my phone with Raphael, so that I could talk to him from time to time. I had enough money to buy a new one.

With a 70% academic scholarship, and a student loan, I left for the University of Toronto, for a degree in Architecture.

And since then, I've rarely seen my father.

I was relieved. If I never had to see him again, I could finally get rid of that cold, dark cavity in my head.

But I never did.

A year into college, I was pretty lonely. I was too afraid of making friends. My previous ones didn't turn out to be that great.

But I managed to bury the loneliness deep inside. I got a part-time job at the library, and spent as much time in there as possible. When the owner, a nice old lady, started kicking me out early because I didn't 'socialise enough', I got a job at Starbucks.

Between studying, and working, my first year got over quite quickly.

Second year rolled by, and I was forced into a group assignment.

I immediately tried to get my teacher to let me work alone, with the standard 'I don't work well in groups' and 'My timings might not match theirs'.

Our teacher, Ms. Thomas, quickly shut me up saying I needed to socialize more. Apparently she was a good friend of my employer.

But the group project turned out to be fun. After a few awkward meetings, and working in complete silence, a girl named Jeslin blew up and started ranting about 'how bored she was' and how she was 'so close to chopping our dicks because we didn't talk'.

I suppose a mild threat to our genitals was enough to begin conversations. Soon enough, friendships started developing. And now, if I spend even a day without them, it physically hurts.

Well, mainly because Jeslin chases me with a baseball bat.

For some reason, I love her homicidal and abusive little self.

As second year got over, Mom and Raphael started visiting Toronto as often as they could. My father didn't complain. I suppose he was too afraid of potentially loosing my mother.

Doesn't that just warm your heart? My father somewhat tolerated me, not because I was his son, but because he didn't want my mother to leave him. Because he loved her more than words could ever describe.

It used to hurt me, but now it just makes me feel happy. I know I don't have the best father, but at least my mother has the best lover.

I didn't say husband, because he doesn't love her as though she was a part of his family. He loves her the way a teenager loves. Unconditionally. It wasn't diluted with time, or other relations. It was pure, passionate, and quite frankly, incredible.

Sometimes I think the reason my father never loved me and Raphael quite as much, was because he was jealous that he had to share my mother's affection. Harsh? Maybe. But like I said, he loved her the way a teenager did. Passionate but reckless.

Back to the point. Mom and Raphael were fond of Toronto. And they were even more fond of discussing my gayness, away from the Holy atmosphere of my home.

My mom used to take me shopping, and she would try to paint my nails. Whenever I told her that being gay didn't necessarily mean being feminine, she'd just laugh and say the whole point of having a gay best friend was to take him shopping, and that she enjoyed making me feel uncomfortable.

Yes. My mother considered me to be her best friend. I know people don't think that's 'cool'. But I think it's adorable. Get over it.

Now, my brother on the other hand, my then 15 year old, supposedly innocent brother, used to try and hook me up.

No. I'm not kidding. He used to try and get me laid.

He made my first Tinder account, and was the first person to swipe right on another account.

My mother even encouraged him! And so did Jeslin! They gave him pictures to put up, and tried threatening me to go on dates!

My brother was more excited than I was when some hot guy tried to flirt with me! Do you know how annoying it is, when an incredibly good looking guy is flirting with you, and you can't even properly talk to him because you are too busy shutting up your brother's mouth?

Well, me neither. Because whenever a guy even came close to me I'd start hyperventilating.

I didn't even realize I used to do that until I met him.

Casper Williams.

I realize how corny I sound, but I shall warn you, the more I progress, the more cliché I will sound.

Casper and I met in the most typical way possible.

He spilled coffee on my shirt.

Now, normally the person who spilled the coffee will apologize, and the person who had coffee on his shirt would wave it off, like it didn't matter.

I didn't. Why? Because coffee is hot! I had boiling hot coffee, cascading down my shirt, and my skin was burning! Of course I wasn't going to wave it off!

Casper tried to apologize, but I was screaming at him in the middle of the coffee shop. Eventually, he managed to convince me to take this outside, where he was hoping we would have a civil conversation.

I was fine until then. The problem rose when he grabbed my hand.

Because when he grabbed my hand, I immediately felt like throwing up, and started falling into an anxiety attack.

And all I could think was, my father had won.

******************************
Author's Note

See! I can make cute and fluffy chapters!
And completely ruin them....
Ah well, can't be helped.

Quick fact, Jeslin is actually a girl in my class! The character is also heavily influenced by her.
I know there isn't much of Jeslin here, but I just thought it would be a fun little fact.

QOTD- How long have you known your best friend?
Ans- 9years...damn....that's a lot...