She tucks the boys in every night after we pray. Even the eleven year old still likes to be tucked in. The thought of that makes me smile to myself as I begin to pick up what used to be the living room. At this moment, it was a fort. Or was it an airplane? I’m not really sure.

I can hear her telling the seven year old good night as I scoot his little table back into its corner. It sounds like he’s trying to stall. He’s a master at stalling at bedtime.

After all of these months, I know her routine well. She says goodnight to the boys, kisses them and tells them to have sweet dreams, then she goes into the bathroom for a few minutes of quiet alone time. This gives me time to finish the living room so we can sit and watch TV for a while before bed.

Every time I help out with something around the house, she tells me that I don’t have to do it. I always say, “I know.” I want to help her. I see how hard she works to make a wonderful home for her boys and I want to help her. I want to show her how much I appreciate what she does. And if I’m being completely honest, moments like these are my favorite. This is exactly what I’ve always wanted and have never had. Moments like this make me happy because I can feel us becoming a family. I love that.

She walks out of the bathroom as I’m just settling down on the couch. The living room is back. The fort (or airplane) is put away. I can’t wait to see what they come up with tomorrow.

I’m searching....I know I can find it. I’m quite certain that the cars that pass by the house are wondering what that crazy woman is doing walking in circles around the yard while looking at her feet.

I really don’t care what they think. I’m determined to find the perfect four-leaf clover....

According to the Old Wise One (a.k.a. Wikipedia), it’s good luck to find one. Especially if you find it while not looking for it. But this isn’t for me. It’s for my girlfriend. I thought it would be the perfect thing to give her on St. Patrick’s Day.

While searching, I think about this past year. What a great year it’s been. I can’t believe it’s been almost a year. We’ve made plans for our first anniversary. This year has been full of moments that take my breath away, and I’ve realized the famous quotation is right. Every kiss, every look, every time she touches my hand touches my heart and makes my breath catch.

I am so very lucky.

I bend over to get a closer look at a patch of clovers. I’ll stay out here all day if I have to....

Then, just as I think about searching for a four leaf clover all day, I see it. It’s perfect. It’s beautiful. Just like her.

I carefully pick it, walk into the house. She looks at me and smiles when I hand her the clover.

My heart leaps, and I say, “Happy St. Patrick’s Day.”

Sometimes it's when we're driving in the car.

Or when we're in the kitchen and trying to get dinner ready.

Other times it's when we're watching TV or when we're simply alone at the end of the day.

Whatever it is that we're doing, it's that moment that she stops. She looks at me. I look up at her and she's smiling. I smile back. Sometimes the look in her eyes makes me shy even after all of these months. Her smile grows when I smile. The look in her eyes is so intense sometimes that I feel like she's looking straight into my soul. Feelings like that used to unnerve me. With her, they just make me warm inside. I feel like I have been waiting my whole life just for her. For these exact moments. I can have the worst day ever, and that one look turns it completely around. Whatever is wrong with the world, she makes it right in my world.

Sometimes she reaches and touches my face, other times we just sit there staring into each other, lost in the moment. I know what she's going to say and my heart races every time as if it were the first time she has said it.

"I love you."

While watching TV on my couch, I look down at the six year old who has firmly planted his head in my side while playing the DSi. How he was able to maneuver his body so that he was able to lie down between me and his brother is beyond me, but he did it. He's such a sweet boy. When you look into his eyes, you see a boy who loves life to the fullest. In one minute, he's trying to figure out how to play checkers, and in the very next minute he's trying to fly because he's wearing a cape, and all superheroes with capes can fly, right? He amazes me with the wisdom that oozes from his six year old brain and his laugh is so very infectious. He cannot sit still right now, and I smile because I am reminded of something my great-grandmother would have said. "He's wallerin' me to death."


I look over at his brother. His eyes are glued to the TV. He's sitting on the edge of his seat as we watch Ghost Hunters together. His eleven year old eyes can be so serious at times. He reminds me a lot of myself at that age. He's sensitive and when you first meet him, you'd think he's a quiet child. When you get to know him, is when you see his full personality. He's an actor, a cartoonist, a movie maker...an artist in the true sense of the word. His talent puts mine to shame, and I'm so very proud of what he's accomplished already. I love teaching him what I know and seeing him take what I've shown him and develop his skills. I have no doubt that one day, he will be teaching me things. His smile warms my heart.


They are both so different, yet I love them both so much.


I smile again. In these past eight months, this has to be one of my favorite moments. I've lived in my house for seven years, but now, I am truly home.


I look over at her, our eyes meet, and we communicate without words. She whispers, "I love you so much." She tells me how warm her heart feels right now in this moment, and I know that she is feeling the exact same thing that I am.


As I turn my attention back to the TV, my heart says, "Welcome home."

I stare at my computer trying to decide what to write about. I love how the keyboard feels beneath my fingers. I smile to myself because I never fancied myself a writer. Not once did I ever look at myself in the mirror and say, "April, you are going to be a writer one day."

Yet, here I sit trying to decide which part of my heart to pour into my tiny little corner of the internet. Here I sit planning on one day writing a book with hopes that people will fall in love with my words as I have fallen in love with other people's words.

Maybe I'll be funny today, I think. I like being funny. And I'm pretty damn good at it. Or. Maybe I will try to touch someone with my words. If one young gay person reads my words and knows that It Gets Better, and that everything will be okay, then I consider my whole writing career a success. Or. Maybe I'll make people cry. Not that I particularly like making people cry, but I do like making people feel things. Or. Maybe I'll just randomly write.

I smile again.

I realize that it doesn't really matter what I write about. It doesn't matter if I'm funny or sad or inspiring because I write here for me. Mostly. And I write here because it makes me feel better. Those moments when I'm writing give me such a satisfaction that no "job" has ever given me before. My writing, at least for now, is for me.

I get up. I look at myself in the mirror and I say, "April, you've become a writer."

No, it doesn't really matter what I write about, I think again. As long as I Just Write.

I looked up from the book I had just finished reading. I had tears in my eyes. From my front porch, I could hear a bird singing nearby. I felt a breeze on my face. I looked around my yard and neighborhood and sighed. Something big was about to happen...

I absorbed what I just read.

My life made sense now. My whole life made sense all in this moment.

I smiled. And I cried.

I cried because deep down I knew that in reading Like Me, my life was going to change. My life had to change. I had been stuck in limbo for far too long. I was living a lie and I was ashamed of myself.

I cried because I was so very scared. I knew that in telling people, I may lose people that I cared about.

I cried because I wasn't exactly sure how I was going to go about telling people.

I cried because I knew that I had finally found my path to happiness.

I smiled again.

My whole life I searched for someone who was like me. I couldn't understand why I had the feelings that I did and I grew up being told that being gay wasn't "right." As I read Chely Wright's words, I found myself saying "Me too!" and I was proud of Chely for having the courage to come out to the world. All of a sudden, I wanted to come out to the world too!

Living a lie was tiring. I wanted to live life instead. I needed to tell my world.

I closed the book, stood up, and began looking at the world with whole new eyes.

It was all going to be okay. Life would be good.

Life is good.

Thank you, Chely.

I didn’t really want to go out that night. I waited until the very last second to take a shower, then I waited until the very last second to decide what to wear, then I waited until the very last second to get dressed, put my make up on. I waited until the very last second to decide to actually go.

A friend wanted me to go out with her to our ONE GAY CLUB. The problem was that I just didn’t FEEL like going. I mean, I had only been to that club once or twice and that was years ago. When I was “straight.” What would happen if someone I wasn’t attracted to asked me to dance? What would happen if I got there and felt uncomfortable? What if I got there and hated it, but felt obligated to stay because I didn’t want to leave my friend? What if I went there and no one wanted to dance with me?

I told myself that I didn’t feel like going, but now that I think about it, I was afraid. I was afraid of what might happen. Of might not happen. I was thinking exactly how I did when I tried so hard to be straight knowing that something just didn’t feel right.

I have a lot of feelings.

In a split second I decided to go. I would go and just have a good time.

My friend and I sat at the bar. I think I had been telling her about how I wasn’t sure if I would ever meet anyone who was my type in our town. I say, “I think” because right after that, my whole night, my whole world changed.

She walked in.

I felt so many feelings all at once. My head rushed, my heart slammed. “There is my type,” I told my friend and pointed to the beautiful woman who was standing near us at the bar.

Our eyes caught and I tried to smile, but I’m not sure if I did because I suddenly felt shy. I watched her as she walked off. I watched her with her friends. I watched her walk outside. I watched her as she stood in front of me, looked back at me and smiled. I watched her as she danced with the girl that I thought was her girlfriend.

My heart sank a little.

After a while on the dance floor, my friend said she needed to go out for some air and when I turned, there was the girl. I smiled. She smiled. Her hand touched mine, our bodies were pulled closer together by magic, or maybe it was her hand, who knows. All I know is that in that moment, when two people meet, there is a magic in the air. Time slows and you are the only two people in the world who exist.

Reality struck again when the one that I thought was her girlfriend approached. I backed off, put my hands up as if to say, “I’m sorry.” She smiled. “She’s not my girlfriend.” She pulled me back to her and we disappeared back into the world that we had created.

I’m not sure how long we danced. It could have been five minutes. It could have been five hours. I was so overwhelmed with feelings but the one that I felt most was that this? It felt right.