. . . One huge step for Whippersnapperkind Part 2

I never thought this day would come so soon. I had promised myself not to end 2009 without telling my Dad, but I spent most of the year ignoring that.

However, for the past month, I've had this intense feeling in the pit of my stomach (that's where my brain is I think. What can I say? I'm a medical marvel!) that I need to come out to my Dad.

This past week, I had almost come out to him but I didn't because he had some stuff going on with his sister. I thought I would wait for the right time. But, then I figured that it would never be a right time and that I would just have to bite the bullet and tell him the truth.

So day before yesterday, I decided that it was D-day. I gave my Mom a heads up, and then waited for my Dad to come home from his office.

Me: Dad, I need to talk to you.
Dad: Okay.

We head to my room.

Me: Dad, there is something important I need to tell you.
Dad: Wait, let me guess, your girlfriend's pregnant.
Me: No, Dad. I don't have a girlfriend.
Dad: So your ex-girlfriend's pregnant?
Me: No, Dad, no one's pregnant.
Dad: So you've been offered a job.
Me: No, Dad. No one's that crazy. Or that desperate.
Dad: Don't say that. There are lots of people like that out there. At least I hope.
Me: Okay, Dad I can't keep having this conversation again and again.
Me: I'm not looking for a job.
Me: Now, can we move on?
Dad: Sigh. Yeah, sure.
Me: Dad, I need to tell you something which I have been keeping secret for a long time.
Dad: Is this about that time you and your friends were almost caught by the police for being underage and drinking in your car and you bribed your way out of it?
Me: You knew about that?
Dad: Pretty much.
Dad: Your friends Dad had called me and told me about it.
Me: Uh-ok.
Dad: What do you think the great lecture of '98 was all about?
Me: Okay, so that was what you were talking about when you said that I wouldn't be able to "bribe my way out of everything and that I need to stop fooling around like that".
Dad: Yeah, what did you think I was talking about?
Me: Oh, I thought you were talking about when I tried to smuggle my mathematics answer sheet out of the classroom because I didn't know the answer to any question.
Dad: You tried to do what?
Me: Ahem. Nothing. Can we move on now?
Me: And will you please stop guessing?
Dad: Okay, what is it you want to tell me?
Me: *Silence*
Dad: Yeah, go on . . .
Me: *Silence*
Dad: If you don't speak now I'll start guessing again . . .
Me: Okay, Dad, this is not easy for me to say what I was going to say.
Dad: Did you "forget" to pay your credit card bill again, for six months?
Me: No, Dad, there is something else.
Dad: Then, do me a favour and tell me what's on your mind.
Me: Okay . . . .  Dad . . . . . . I, ummmmm, don't like, mmmmmmmmmmmm
Dad: You don't like what?
Me: Dad, I don't like girls.
Dad: What do you mean?
Dad: Do you like boys, then?
Me: Yeah, sort off.
Dad: That's sad.
Me: In what sense?
Dad: You do know this is a disease, right?
Me: What, being gay?
Dad: Yeah.
Me: What are you talking about, Dad?
Dad: Well, you should see a psychiatrist.
Me: Look, Dad, I'm not asking you for advice.
Me: It's how I was born.
Me: I could have gone my whole life without telling you and there was no way you could have found out.
Me: I'm not asking for your blessing or anything. I'm basically telling you that this is how it is.
Me: And I would expect someone as educated as you to keep an open mind.
Dad: See, I'm not forcing you to do anything. Just giving you my opinion.
Dad: It's your life, and your choice.
Me: Thanks.
Me: If you feel ashamed of me, I will move out in a few months or whenever I get a job.
Dad: You really don't need to do that.
Me: What, get a job?
Dad: No, move out.
Me: Oh, it's good that you said that. I wasn't gonna move out anyway and it would have been really awkward ...... for you.
Dad: *no reaction*
Me: So I guess we're not ready to joke about it yet.
Dad: *Gets up to leave*
Me: begin sarcastic tone\ Sorry for being such a disappointment. /end sarcastic tone
Dad: *Opens door to leave, looks back* No, there is nothing like that.
Me: *shrugs*

It wasn't as bad as I expected. He didn't shout or say anything really mean. And he was probably shocked, to say the least. But I am glad I told him. It was time. Even though I think he wishes that I rather had a pregnant girlfriend, I think it's going to be fine.

He's going to do what he usually does when I take decisions which he does not agree with (basically, ALL of them). a) Sulk b) Blame my Mom for "encouraging" me c) Fire someone in his office d) Begrudgingly get on board Team Ramby.

It took me such a long time. It's only fair I let him take his. 

Anyways, the important thing is that now, there would be no more secrets. No more half-truths. No more use of ambiguous words like "partner", "fellow-human" and "casual friend".

I guess the truth does set you free!

Hallelujah!

Although, I still am never going to tell him what really happened to his car in January 1996. That secret is going with me to the grave. Or whatever weird vegan ceremony I'm going to have when I finally log out and pass on to the big blogosphere in the sky.