WingsofWriting
Aug. 6, 2011, 8:32 p.m.
What My Papa Said
All Blaine ever wanted to do was make his father proud and to gain his approval, but he has never been able to see it. Will Blaine ever be able to achieve this? A poetical glance at Blaine Anderson's life.
K - Words: 241 - Last Updated: Aug 06, 2011 845 0 0 1 Categories: Angst, Drama, Characters: Blaine Anderson, Mr. Anderson (Blaine's Father),
Eight years old
At a dinner party
My Papa said to me:
“Be a gentleman, Blaine.”
“Try to impress.”
Try to… “Make me proud.”
I knew he meant, “Try to be perfect.”
That party ended in
A ripped suit,
Untamed curls,
A black eye,
And a disappointed stare.
Fourteen years old
At a family dinner,
I said to my Papa:
“I’m gay.”
“Be understanding…” please?
“Try to accept it…” me.
Try to…“ Please, love me still.”
That dinner ended in
A black eye,
Unshed tears,
A broken heart,
And a hateful glare.
Sixteen years old
Over the summer
My Papa said to me:
“Blaine, let’s build a car.”
“Try to bond a little.”
So… “Have you met a girl?”
And when I said to Papa,
“I’m gay…” I wish you’d understand
That project ended in
A pained look,
Unshed tears,
A silent summer,
And more hateful glares.
Seventeen Years old
I said to Papa:
“I met a girl.”
“Her name is Rachel.”
“We’re going to try to date.”
“Maybe, I was wrong” Please be proud…
That conversation ended in
A happy look,
Laughing moments,
A hug,
And my Papa saying, “I’m proud of you, my boy.”
At seventeen
I never said to Papa:
“We only lasted a week.”
“I’m definitely gay.”
“I’m dating Kurt…” I love him.
Those lies ended in
A huge fight,
Unthrown punches,
A hateful glare,
And my father’s disappointment.
Twenty-one years old,
I said to my father:
“I’m in love with Kurt.”
“I’m marrying him.”
“I don’t need your approval.”
I just… “I wanted you to know.”
Our final conversation ended in
A hateful look,
Unthrown punches,
My proud stare,
And me leaving forever.
I was no longer my Papa’s gentleman.
I wasn’t trying to impress,
I wasn’t his perfect son,
But I was proud,
And in love with another man.
I didn’t need what my Papa said.
At a dinner party
My Papa said to me:
“Be a gentleman, Blaine.”
“Try to impress.”
Try to… “Make me proud.”
I knew he meant, “Try to be perfect.”
That party ended in
A ripped suit,
Untamed curls,
A black eye,
And a disappointed stare.
Fourteen years old
At a family dinner,
I said to my Papa:
“I’m gay.”
“Be understanding…” please?
“Try to accept it…” me.
Try to…“ Please, love me still.”
That dinner ended in
A black eye,
Unshed tears,
A broken heart,
And a hateful glare.
Sixteen years old
Over the summer
My Papa said to me:
“Blaine, let’s build a car.”
“Try to bond a little.”
So… “Have you met a girl?”
And when I said to Papa,
“I’m gay…” I wish you’d understand
That project ended in
A pained look,
Unshed tears,
A silent summer,
And more hateful glares.
Seventeen Years old
I said to Papa:
“I met a girl.”
“Her name is Rachel.”
“We’re going to try to date.”
“Maybe, I was wrong” Please be proud…
That conversation ended in
A happy look,
Laughing moments,
A hug,
And my Papa saying, “I’m proud of you, my boy.”
At seventeen
I never said to Papa:
“We only lasted a week.”
“I’m definitely gay.”
“I’m dating Kurt…” I love him.
Those lies ended in
A huge fight,
Unthrown punches,
A hateful glare,
And my father’s disappointment.
Twenty-one years old,
I said to my father:
“I’m in love with Kurt.”
“I’m marrying him.”
“I don’t need your approval.”
I just… “I wanted you to know.”
Our final conversation ended in
A hateful look,
Unthrown punches,
My proud stare,
And me leaving forever.
I was no longer my Papa’s gentleman.
I wasn’t trying to impress,
I wasn’t his perfect son,
But I was proud,
And in love with another man.
I didn’t need what my Papa said.