On top of a cliff, I look down and see how beautiful the world is. How each leaf has a different color and blends fluidly into its partner. I see a river flow away from view and merge with the sky. It’s a world that I would never realize from walking through the woods or through swimming in the river. The individuality of each object merges together to make one continuous world. There are no empty spaces because even where there is nothing, there is a patch of dirt with little plants struggling to live or there is an empty spot of sky full of a light blue and maybe the ghost of a cloud. Behind me is a storm throwing a shadow unto the world. I can hear the thunder bellowing as it approaches. I see that fallen into darkness, the world is has many different hues, many different sides that although different, just show the same beautiful images in a different gown.

From atop of this mountain, I wonder why and how I got here. The impending storm glides closer careful not to make any sudden movements. I sit on a rock and I know I’ll have to do something, but for some reason, my mind throttles towards blame and excuses. Why am I here so far from safety and security?

At least, that’s how I feel right now. I’ve gone through so many scenarios trying to place blame, find where I broke bad, give meaning to this beautiful world. Although I find answers, it doesn’t satisfy me. Then I remember what a friend of mine asked some months ago. After telling him about my return to Spain he bluntly asked, “What are you running from?” I shrugged it off seeing as he didn’t know my dark deep secret. I didn’t register it then, but I really was running from something: being gay. Here, if someone caught me being gay in the streets, they wouldn’t go and publish it in all of the major newspapers. I know it sounds like an exaggeration, but that was a legitimate fear that I had before I came out to my family. Here, almost like college, I was free. Actually, it was better than college because I could always say “I no speakie espagnol”. I could be myself and I wouldn’t care about hiding it.

After last December, the two places switched roles. My immediate family knew that I am gay and I find myself in a relationship that can’t escape the walls of the apartment. I saw how my family treated my boyfriend with complete unconditional love and how the family that didn’t even know he was my boyfriend accepted him like another member of the family reminded me of how much I love them. Then, my friends envelope him in so much conversation that I barely talk to him or them. My return flight wasn’t me escaping my life in the US, but rather I was kicking myself out. It was my choice and I hated it. Now, being back in the apartment in Spain, I can’t believe that I left them all behind. Why on earth would I leave the ones I love?

That’s what I’m thinking about on the top of this cliff. I fled my sexuality a year and a half ago and that’s essentially why I’m in this situation. Although I probably didn’t admit it back then, I’m coming clean now. This out of country experience has really opened my eyes and made me appreciate my family and friends so much more that they don’t even know until I come back into their arms. The only problem is that I have to survive that dark, rolling cloud that’s hanging overhead. I might just have to let it happen and hang on. All I know if that I need to wait until it passes before I can return to where I belong.