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Wayback Machine

NZ Writing
The Courage to Stop
By Alby Wilson
30th July 2006 - 11:02 pm

The mid-afternoon sun shone brightly on our naked bodies, and as our tongues danced together I heard the growing sound of somebodys voice, I knew it was Duane, he had come to find me. “What should I do?” I asked quietly. “Well babe, you have two options; run, and keep running, for the rest of your life. Or, stay here, with me and face it. Is our love not so strong, strong enough to face adversity? Is it an impossible love?” I looked deep into her deep blue eyes, startled. I knew not what to do, so I said “I won't be running forever, just till I get the courage to stop” and with that I pulled on a skirt and a shirt and ran up to meet the voices.

I knew they would turn as soon as they found me, it was a very scary wood, no one in their right mind would go there without purpose. I told him I was collecting samples for my next experiment. “Quick save!” Duane and I strided back through the native bush to the batch, her words ran through my mind. “Running forever? Impossible love? Surely not impossible, and not forever, right?

I saw her 31 times after that day, each time I was more and more sure that our love was real, and that she was the one for me. But I kept running, and she died before I did anything about it. I haven't spoke her name since that day, but I did learn a lesson. Eleven years to the day, after that Sunday afternoon in the bush, I left my husband. I left Duane to find love. Love with a woman. The love that I want, that I need, and that I could have had

And let this be a lesson to all you who too are afraid to step outside the square, and face “adversity” (as Kara put it) Running wont get you anywhere. I found that out too late. My message is that if you know you are gay, then be proud, this doesn't mean you have to say “look at me im gay” or anything like that. Just that you realise “ you can run from it, but you cannot hide from it.” welcomes short-format writing based on the joy of being gay or lesbian, whether it be verse, essays, anecdotes or personal insights.
The format is not important, the joy is.

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