Running with Lions

by Julian Winters

“A good heart doesn’t need a reason; take care of people the way you’d want them to take care of you,”

Sebastian wants to tell her life is impossible to figure out. How does he silence all the huge, monstrous fears biting at his mind?

Alcohol camouflages the scars from his youth, but strength isn’t measured by a guy’s ability to drain a six-pack and not cry.

Humor is always good medicine for unhealthy thoughts.

And being anything but straight means making these huge declarations to the people closest to you.

Why the hell isn’t working through feelings a class offered to middle school kids?

I spent so much time caring about you, I didn’t know anyone else existed.”

“People dislike other people for the wrong reasons,” Emir says. “Doesn’t mean we should act like them.”

“Guys are beautiful. And girls are handsome. Words aren’t gender-specific. Don’t be some jock asshole about this.”

For such a sought-after emotion, love sure comes with a lot of answerless questions.

Coach shakes his head. He’s talking about more than just Sebastian, more than Willie and Mason. It’s anyone who gets stamped with a label, who’s predicted to fail because of society’s rules, because of a stereotype. “It isn’t easy being the one coach in the district who stands up for guys like Xander,” says Coach, chin lifted. “I don’t let one kid walk away from my team without a chance to be himself, whether it’s gay or bi or trans or whatever. I get shit too.”

Why do people let things so precious to them turn into dark, unbearable secrets?

Then his eyes get a little bleary, but he doesn’t wipe away the tears. These are happy ones, so it’s okay. He doesn’t care if crying’s not considered manly. Who writes these stupid definitions of manly, feminine, beautiful, or handsome, anyway?

“If you’re watching Scooby Doo and think of someone because it’s their favorite cartoon. If you’re allergic to flour but still eat someone’s burnt pancakes. Or if you hate the color green but you wear it because it reminds you of a person’s eyes just before you kiss them—well, it might be love.”

Her son admitting he’s bisexual isn’t the apocalypse; no, it’s her son being without the person, the boy he loves that saddens her.

And that’s the thing, life is sometimes just another day, and sometimes it’s moment after moment after moment that only paralyzes you if you let it.

life isn’t only about what you accomplish.” His eyes find Zach, then Willie. “It’s about proving to yourself you can make the best of what you’ve been given.”

The future is only grim because people see it that way. It’s unpredictable. Life is a summer storm of insecure thoughts. There’s an umbrella of precautions to prevent insecurity, but it doesn’t always keep the rain out of your face.