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The many times in high school when my eyes had followed the sloping curve of a boy’s leg until the shadowy interior of his gym shorts swallowed up the mystery.
My ex-gay therapists took Him away from me, and no matter how many different churches I attend, I will feel the same dead weight in my chest. I will feel the pang of a deep love now absent from my life. I will continue to experiment with different denominations, different religions. I will continue to search. And even if I no longer believe in Hell, I will continue to struggle with the fear of it.

