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I know of many people in consanguinamorous relationships who are happy together, leading good lives, hindered only by bigotry against consensual incest, sometimes still expressed in stupid laws that shouldn't exist. But there are also people whose lives are completely ruined by prejudice. FME reader Niels Griffen Doe called my attention to something posted at http://finaljudgement.tumblr.com. Click through to read if you dare, but be prepared to cry.
Let me tell you a story. You might understand me after you read it.
When I was 6 years old and was in elementary school I had a best friend, let me just call her A.
We did everything together and I often was at her place and got to know her big brothers, S. who was 17 years old and F. who was 21 years old.
S. went to school in our hometown and F. was studying at the university here.
A. and I had a lot of fun with them. They played videogames with us, we had ice cream fights and treasure hunts, they taught us everything much better than any teacher could have, they read us ‘Harry Potter’ until we fell asleep, made popcorn for us when we wanted to watch a movie, they watched certain Disney movies a thousand times with us, when we wanted to play ‘The Lion King’ they were Timon and Pumbaa and we were Simba and Nala, they soothed us when we were sad or had nightmares.
They loved us. And we loved them.
One night A. and I entered F.’s room without knocking and we saw them on the bed, kissing and touching.
We were shocked at first and they were shocked, too. We immediately left.
The next day they were talking to us.
F. told us that he loved S. and that they were a couple. Just like their mum and dad were. And many other people we knew.
We understood.
We promised to not tell anyone because they told us that no one except us would understand. We didn’t really get why no one else would understand. They were in love. Why wouldn’t people understand?
But we never told anyone.
When it was A.’s 8th birthday her brothers took us out in the fields at midnight, we followed a path with little candles until we reached a telescope they bought for A.
We were watching the stars together nearly the whole night.
F. held S. close, they were kissing sometimes, gentle and sweet kisses and A. and I were talking to the stars.
‘Little stars, when we grow up we want to be like F. and S. because they are so nice and kind and when they marry we want to be their flower childs.’
They giggled when they heard it and F. said ‘We can’t get married, you know.’ and we started pouting because we thought that was not fair.
Later that night S. sang ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ and we fell asleep.
The next morning we woke up because we heard them scream. Their parents were screaming, too, and we were scared.
Since then there wasn’t a day without them yelling at eachother.
S. and F. talked to us and told us that their parents found out about them. We started crying because we felt like it was the end of the world even though we didn’t exactly know why.
A week later their dad hit F. and S. just stood there crying the whole time. We were terrified. We didn’t understand what was going on.
Their parents made S. go to another school in a different town. He had an appartment there and had to move out of the house in our hometown.
We missed him. But most of all F. missed him.
I remember how he hugged us really close and whispered things to us we didn’t understand until now. He told us things about love, about freedom and he said he was sure we would grow up to be beautiful, strong women.
He said he loved us.
Then he called S. and let him talk to us, too. He was crying and laughing at the same time.
‘Don’t let anyone get you down. Keep your head up high. Speak your mind. Live your life. I love you, girls.’
That’s what he said to us. After that F. drove off and we had no idea where he was going.
We never saw him again.
In the morning A.’s mother was crying and her dad sat on his chair in silence.
‘We have to talk to you’, they said to A., ‘God took your brothers home.’
A car crash.
There were no tears at this moment. We didn’t know what to say.
They didn’t talk about it again. Until a few years later.
When A. and I were 13 years old they told us that her brothers committed suicide. They felt so guilty. But it was too late for feeling guilty.
That’s when I started crying, I let out all the pain, I was screaming and couldn’t breathe and I was asking myself the same questions over and over again.
How can love be wrong? Why is this world so sick?
A girl lost her loving brothers because of people who don’t understand what love really is. I lost two of the most amazing boys I ever knew because of people who don’t want to understand what love really is.
I often watch the stars and think about them. I wonder where they are right now.
I wonder if they’re happy.
Please, if you're worried about the sexuality or relationships of someone in your family, read this. "item"'>I know of many people in consanguinamorous relationships who are happy together, leading good lives, hindered only by bigotry against consensual incest, sometimes still expressed in stupid laws that shouldn't exist. But there are also people whose lives are completely ruined by prejudice. FME reader Niels Griffen Doe called my attention to something posted at http://finaljudgement.tumblr.com. Click through to read if you dare, but be prepared to cry.
Let me tell you a story. You might understand me after you read it.
When I was 6 years old and was in elementary school I had a best friend, let me just call her A.
We did everything together and I often was at her place and got to know her big brothers, S. who was 17 years old and F. who was 21 years old.
S. went to school in our hometown and F. was studying at the university here.
A. and I had a lot of fun with them. They played videogames with us, we had ice cream fights and treasure hunts, they taught us everything much better than any teacher could have, they read us ‘Harry Potter’ until we fell asleep, made popcorn for us when we wanted to watch a movie, they watched certain Disney movies a thousand times with us, when we wanted to play ‘The Lion King’ they were Timon and Pumbaa and we were Simba and Nala, they soothed us when we were sad or had nightmares.
They loved us. And we loved them.
One night A. and I entered F.’s room without knocking and we saw them on the bed, kissing and touching.
We were shocked at first and they were shocked, too. We immediately left.
The next day they were talking to us.
F. told us that he loved S. and that they were a couple. Just like their mum and dad were. And many other people we knew.
We understood.
We promised to not tell anyone because they told us that no one except us would understand. We didn’t really get why no one else would understand. They were in love. Why wouldn’t people understand?
But we never told anyone.
When it was A.’s 8th birthday her brothers took us out in the fields at midnight, we followed a path with little candles until we reached a telescope they bought for A.
We were watching the stars together nearly the whole night.
F. held S. close, they were kissing sometimes, gentle and sweet kisses and A. and I were talking to the stars.
‘Little stars, when we grow up we want to be like F. and S. because they are so nice and kind and when they marry we want to be their flower childs.’
They giggled when they heard it and F. said ‘We can’t get married, you know.’ and we started pouting because we thought that was not fair.
Later that night S. sang ‘Twinkle Twinkle Little Star’ and we fell asleep.
The next morning we woke up because we heard them scream. Their parents were screaming, too, and we were scared.
Since then there wasn’t a day without them yelling at eachother.
S. and F. talked to us and told us that their parents found out about them. We started crying because we felt like it was the end of the world even though we didn’t exactly know why.
A week later their dad hit F. and S. just stood there crying the whole time. We were terrified. We didn’t understand what was going on.
Their parents made S. go to another school in a different town. He had an appartment there and had to move out of the house in our hometown.
We missed him. But most of all F. missed him.
I remember how he hugged us really close and whispered things to us we didn’t understand until now. He told us things about love, about freedom and he said he was sure we would grow up to be beautiful, strong women.
He said he loved us.
Then he called S. and let him talk to us, too. He was crying and laughing at the same time.
‘Don’t let anyone get you down. Keep your head up high. Speak your mind. Live your life. I love you, girls.’
That’s what he said to us. After that F. drove off and we had no idea where he was going.
We never saw him again.
In the morning A.’s mother was crying and her dad sat on his chair in silence.
‘We have to talk to you’, they said to A., ‘God took your brothers home.’
A car crash.
There were no tears at this moment. We didn’t know what to say.
They didn’t talk about it again. Until a few years later.
When A. and I were 13 years old they told us that her brothers committed suicide. They felt so guilty. But it was too late for feeling guilty.
That’s when I started crying, I let out all the pain, I was screaming and couldn’t breathe and I was asking myself the same questions over and over again.
How can love be wrong? Why is this world so sick?
A girl lost her loving brothers because of people who don’t understand what love really is. I lost two of the most amazing boys I ever knew because of people who don’t want to understand what love really is.
I often watch the stars and think about them. I wonder where they are right now.
I wonder if they’re happy.
Please, if you're worried about the sexuality or relationships of someone in your family, read this.
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