Gay Best Friend - Mel Afoa

I used to tease him.
I use to laugh at him and call him names. I used to cry with laughter at the insults people directed towards him. When he told everyone he liked boys only in Year 6, I remember egging him until the teachers came. I remember how everyone hated him, how the boys used to walk past him, pretending to put on make-up. He used to always put his head down when the torment started, and walk out when it became too much. Once, he was stopped when he tried walking away, and was hit.
I remember getting bullied in high school. Girls used to always mock my clothes and hair. I was always tormented in the toilets. I remember how I was superglued to the toilet seat until the ambulance arrived, and had to pull my butt off. Photos, videos and everything impossible went on the internet. Bullies used to hit and kick me until i was barely conscious. Teachers hated me, giving me F+ instead of As.
One day I prayed to God, asking him for a best friend. I asked him for someone who will respect me and love me no matter what. I asked for someone who has the heart and the soul of an angel, and who was strong both outside and within. I wanted a best friend who loved everyone around them, and who had the gift of power and wisdom. Someone who didn't care about what others did or thought. Someone unreachable.
The day after, when I walked to school, my usual bullies came and gang-bashed me. I was left bleeding both on my body and in my heart. I didn't have the power to stand up, and my tears could not be heard from afar. That's when he came, and sat next to me. He reached into his bag and pulled out a few bandaids. He then helped me up and asked if I needed help. I declined. He smiled and went away.
The next day, I was in class, watching the birds flutter outside the window. I was too distracted to notice a few girls passing notes behind my back. When the teacher looked around from the blackboard, a note from my desk fell to the ground. She came and picked it up. It was a drawing of her, with swear words around her. I was told to attend detention for a month, and to pick up all the litter around the school. The girls and boys played at lunchtime, too busy to help me. I was there picking up everyones litter, and he came. He helped me pick up alot of scraps; banana peelings, empty soft drink cans and chip packets. One boy went past and threw yogurt on both of us. I remember we looked at each other, and started laughing.
Two days later, I got kicked out of home for not cleaning up the kitchen. Dad was dead, and mum and her boyfriend had no care in the world for me. Big brother Joe was in the army, andd my oldest sister Bennaliah ran away long before I knew how to walk. I was walking up and down our street, looking for someone to offer me comfort and support. Mum's boyfriend kept throwing rubbish on me, mocking me as I walked solo. Mum even threw a beer can on my face. I was left with a bruised eye and a broken heart. Night came and I was sitting on the street curbs, and then he came and offered me shelter. His told me his name was Jackson. We walked to his house, and as soon as he opened his door, I knew what happiness felt like.
He offered me food I have always wanted to eat, and drinks I've never heard of. We watched many movies, and laughed the whole night. He then showed me his family, and I was honoured to meet his easy-going mother and father. His older brother let us play on his computer, and his oldest brother let us take photos with his camera. We mucked around eating hot chocolate while watching the bright stars and the moon. I remember trying to say sorry for all the bullying I did to him, but he only interrupted me, saying ' You've learnt your lesson '. I nodded silently. He then asked if I wanted a makeover, and I laughed before saying yes.
That night, I prayed to God again. I asked him if the gay boy was to be my best friend. I asked him if this was the angel he sent me. I asked God to send me power and love. I closed my eyes that night, in someone else's house, and I knew God's angel was him.
We did everything together. We went parties together and went on to the same university. He was my provider and my guardian. We lived together, and went running in the morning with each other. We went through life together, meeting the same people. He was the fashion guru in the house, and I was the cook. Whenever he had a boyfriend, I would tell him if he was really that good for him. If I went out with a guy, he would see if that guy was The One.
One day I fell in love with a handsome guy. He was tall, muscular and he had spiky hair. His green eyes had captured me immedietly when I saw him in a busy cafe. I couldn't concentrate on anything except him. He asked me out, and I hurriedly accepted. Two years later, we were engaged. My best friend was with me that night. I looked for him when my love popped the question. He was standing with tequila shots in his hands, and he looked at me, blues eyes sparkling with pride. He nodded slowly, and I accepted.
He was my best man / maid of honour at my wedding. He looked handsome and beautiful in his half tuxedo, half dress. He looked more beautfiul than me. I had my first dance with my Husband, before dancing with my best friend. He told me he was so proud of me. He told me he would love and miss me, and that nothing would ever come between us, not even my husband. He wiped away my tears, and I hugged him close, knowing our time together would be limited. The whole night I spent with him more than my love, laughing and mocking all the ladies that attended and their dresses. He caught the eye of another handsome gay, and soon they were partying and drinking in each other's arms. I smiled happily.
He also became my son's Godmother/Godfather. He and my son bonded more than I did with my kid. He always came over every weekend with his boyfriend to pick up my son so they could go soccer together, always stopping to get icecream. He was always very tight with my husband, who got offended and when someone dissed a gay in front of him. They would always watch action movies together, and drink during weekend sunsets.

God taught me a lesson - never judge a book by its cover. Its not whats on the outside that counts, its what is buried within.