Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110458 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 552(@200wpm)___ 442(@250wpm)___ 368(@300wpm)
He rubs my back. "I know you've gotta be having at least a kind of hard time. But you won't tell me. Bet I know why, too. You have some idea you should spare me from it. But you know what?" He's whispering in my ear. "Whatever you’re thinking right now, I can handle that shit. That's what I'm made for."
I swallow hard so I don't get red eyes before I go on air. "Made for picking me up?" I manage.
"And putting you back together.”
"I want to...be better. For you."
"I don't want you to be better." He hugs me tighter. "Just be Sky."
Then he walks me over to the couch. He takes a seat and urges me to lie with my head in his lap. He strokes my hair, and I close my eyes—for just a minute. "You're my favorite part of life, Sky. I just fucking love...everything about you. We're the perfect match. Both of us bring out the best in each other. I just want to be a place where you can rest. Like really rest. And talk if you want to. But if you don't, then you don't. I'm your Switzerland."
"You're not neutral," I murmur into his lap. "You're pro-Luke."
"In any format.” His hand strokes through my hair. “I don't have desires for how you'll act. All I want is to do life with you. Sometimes I've been a little worried, here or there, that you might...think it's too much. This thing with us. But I trust you. You're smart, you're kind. You're a good person, Sky babe. In a little while, you're gonna get up there and show these people who you are, like you do every week. I can't imagine how you open up to all these strangers like you do. And it's so real. It's like they know the same person I do."
I wrap my arms around his waist. " Maybe what they care about the most is all the stuff I'm not. Like bespoke suits and how I look and how I make them feel."
"You make them feel heard and accepted. You've never made these people feel abnormally important or universally right. I've watched almost all the footage of you. I watched in the church's archive, chronological order. I know what you've told them for at least the past three years. You've been honest with them about yourself, even. You never talked shit about gay rights. You kept it rainbow friendly even when the church wasn't affirming. I know you know your own numbers on that shit."
The church has always had gay members.
"Yeah," I manage.
"There is no one better for this than you. You're the one you need. I know it's a cliche, but you're the one you're waiting for, and you're the one they're waiting for. You're the right man for this moment, Sky babe. You're strong and honest and brave. You have an ability that's...not because of who your dad is. At least not superficially. Maybe it's in the genes." His hand strokes my hair again.
"This is what you're good at. Just the same as writers open themselves up for a book or actors make themselves into a role. You're doing something with your self. With who you are. You're making yourself available for consumption. Honestly, I guess it's just like an artist or a writer. You're an artist, and your art is teaching. Speaking. Showing them things they can't see with their eyes. Only when their eyes have your goggles on top of them. You're a teacher. In the purest form. You're...a visionary. And it doesn't matter that you're gay. You're not gonna tell them being gay is okay if it isn't. You would have quit if you believe you were going against your religion. It’s not wrong to love who you love. Our love isn't wrong, and you don't think it is. I know you don't. I can tell you don't."
"I don't," I whisper.
"All us humans are made of the same stuff. We have the same heart."
"I know." I sit up, so I can wrap my arms around him. "I just need to try to show them that. And if it doesn't work, if they can't see, I'm going to go," I whisper. "I won't have our love degraded by a bunch of willful ignorance and constant questions and bully behavior like what happened at the burger place last week."
"If it doesn't work, you'll have given them everything you can. And we can move to...anywhere we want to."
"Would you ship the sculptures overseas?" I ask V.
He smiles. "Sky, I think it's gonna work." He says it gently. And his face is gentle. As is his hand cupping my nape. "I think this will be just fine. But if it isn't, if you don't want it, then yeah. I'll ship them wherever."