"with God"

Colleen Mundy
Long Story

With God

I’m not sure if I still consider myself a twin since my twin died. And I can’t bring myself to say that he killed himself either. As far as I’m concerned, Seth died and that’s that. If anything, my parents killed him. I can understand their shock at his coming out, especially since they walked in on him with his boyfriend, not exactly the most preferable way to find out that your son is gay, but I don’t know how any parent could reject their child the way mine rejected Seth after that.
I never felt as strongly for God as my parents, but I also never rejected church like Seth did. Sure my twin brother still went to church, but that was really just to appease our parents. He believed in God, but the whole idea of church didn't agree with him.
It was too robotic and boring for Seth.
“Stand up, sit down, kneel, pray, stand up, pray, sit down,” Seth rolled his green eyes all the way back in his head whenever we talked about it.
I tucked my hair behind my ear and played with the ends as I listened to him complain and watched him whirlwind around his mess of a room. He kicked his mattress that sat on the floor with no bed frame and shuffled through the half empty soda bottles, bags of chips, papers (most of them sketches and doodles, not homework), until he found his stash of gum. For twins, Seth and I were like black and white. He was messy, liked to ruffle feathers, and always stood out. I was neat, more the type to stay in the background and go with the flow. But Seth was still my best friend. He unwrapped his gum, threw a piece in his mouth and started chopping, never losing a beat with his argument.
“I just don’t get it, Trish,” he threw up his hands. “You go to this place to hear the most hypocritical crock of shit.”
I tried to pay attention, but I was busy remembering the time my parents caught Seth chewing gum in church. He would always tuck it behind his back molar for Communion and wouldn’t spit it out for anything. They grounded him when they caught him and gave him a 10 pm curfew. Seth responded by wandering in at 3 am the next morning.
“You were serious about that whole curfew thing?” he laughed, and went to bed.
He wasn’t into all of the drugs and drinking that went on at school, but it was more of him just making a statement to our parents. They never could control Seth, though. He was too much of a free spirit for them. They were predictable, calm and set in their routines. He was a tornado, acted on a whim and had a problem with authority. Seth was the most real, straightforward person I had ever known. If he had an opinion, he made sure everyone was going to know it. If he had a problem with you, he had no problem letting you know.
“I mean, it just doesn’t make sense,” Seth’s voice was an octave higher with anger and recaptured my attention. “I mean really, who is this guy to stand up there in church and tell you to love everybody just the way they are, the way God made them, and then outcast, persecute and ridicule anybody who isn’t just like him and all those other Bible pushing crazies? Like Mom and Dad. They would freak if they knew I was gay!”
He stopped storming around the room when he realized what he had just done and slowly turned back to me. I dropped my hair and he blew a nervous bubble, the pop echoing throughout the now dead silent room. My stomach anxiously turned over itself as I stood to face my twin brother. The thought of Seth being gay never crossed my mind. I mean, Seth never had a girlfriend, but he was a good-looking, nice guy. I figured all of the girls at our school just couldn’t handle his energy and rebellious attitude. I raised an eyebrow at him and he shrugged and shot me a wavering smile. He had been so vulnerable in that moment. I had never seen him like that. Seth was always confident and aggressive with his beliefs and what he thought.
“Don’t get me wrong,” he said. “I still believe in God and all that jazz, I just don’t believe that all gay people are going to Hell. Why would God make me this way if He didn’t want me to be like this? It’s not like I chose this. I didn't wake up one morning and decide to be gay.”
I was speechless for a minute. It was usually pretty hard to get a word in edgewise with Seth, so I was used to letting him do most of the talking, but this was different. He was waiting for me to speak, but I didn't know how. I opened my mouth and hoped that whatever came out would be comprehendible.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, bro,” I said. “I love you no matter what. If that’s what makes you happy, then that’s what makes you happy. It’s Mom and Dad you’re going to have to deal with.”
Seth’s raised eyebrows crinkled slightly and his bottom lip quivered. He chewed his gum a little bit slower. I walked over to Seth and did what he only allowed me to do. I wrapped my arms around him and hugged him, letting my hands run along his back as he cried for the first time I’d seen in years. He nodded against my shoulder and his chest heaved up and down with his ragged breaths.
“Thanks Trish,” he whispered.
And that was it. He didn't need to say anything else. We both knew what was headed his way whenever he decided to come out to my parents. It was only a couple of weeks later when my parents walked in on him. They were out for dinner and I was out at a study group, so of course Seth thought he had the house to himself. Apparently they came home early, and I came home to my father chasing Seth’s boyfriend out of the house and my mother screaming something about Hell. It was the most passionate and active I had seen them act about anything in my entire life.
They didn't speak to Seth for a month after that.
Then out of nowhere they started operation “Turn Seth Straight,” which was consequently also operation “Lose Your Son Forever.” They tried therapists, personal hypnotists, and of course priests. They had him in church Sundays as usual, but made him stay after and talk to the priest for at least an hour every week. It all burned Seth out like I never thought possible. I watched as my brother changed, morphed, all to try to win back some kind of love from our parents. His boyfriend broke up with him, which my parents saw as step one, because he couldn’t handle Seth’s subordination to my parents. Seth lost his spark, his drive, that personality that made him Seth. I tried to be there for him, support him against all of the lecturing and ridiculing from my parents, but there was no fire left in Seth’s eyes. All he ever wanted was to be accepted, understood; something he never got from my parents.
Of course, none of the therapists worked. Seth didn't magically turn straight, he didn't suddenly love church and he wasn’t the perfect son that my parents always wanted him to be. He wasn’t anything anymore. He never smiled, he was failing every class, and he didn't talk to anyone, barely even me. He was miserable. It was too much, even for Seth.
I don’t know why my parents were surprised when we found him face down on his bed with pills scattered around him. I think I felt the word get a little bit darker when I walked in his room. I couldn’t believe my eyes at first. It was like a parallel universe. Like someone was trying to show my parents what could happen if they didn't accept Seth, and I just happened to be a witness. I remember my parents didn't even cry at first. There they were, staring at their daughter bawling over their son’s dead body, and they can’t shed a single tear. I don’t think it really hit them until the funeral.
Like my parents always made Seth go to church, I made them go with me to put flowers on his grave every month. It’s been a year since Seth died and a lot has changed. A lot has stayed the same, too, though. I still don’t know if my parents realize the influence they had on Seth. And I don’t know if I could ever make them understand the influence that had on me. I’m too afraid to tell them yet that Seth and I had more in common than anyone thought. That it wasn’t Seth who needed to find a nice girl. I’m afraid to tell my parents what I figured out after Seth died. I’m too afraid that they haven’t changed, that they wouldn’t understand me like they didn't understand Seth. I’m too afraid to tell them that I’m gay, too. Because I’m afraid of ending up like my brother.