zombienumbersix:

gamesockson:

hono-lulu:

notthatkindagay:

Since May of 2007 I’ve carried two things in my wallet. The first is the card of an Officer of the Chestertown Police Department. The second is the supposed address of the person who decided he needed to beat me up in a bar because he suspected that I like boys.

For 2.5 years I’ve carried these two things around seeing them nearly every time I opened my wallet. I don’t know why. For some reason after the officer gave me those two items the night of the incident, it’s where I put them so that when I pressed charges I’d have the necessary information. I pressed charges. The address was apparently incorrect or out-dated. However, I decided I didn’t ever want to let go.

I have a doctor’s appointment this week too. At this appointment I’m going to talk to him about being eased off of the anti-anxiety medication I had to start taking a few months after the attack because they diagnosed me with PTSD. I couldn’t walk to get lunch without living in fear and thinking I would die.

Two and a half years later, I think I’ve finally gotten over that very dark period. It changed my life forever, I believe. That’s probably why I kept those two things in my wallet for so long because I didn’t want to forget how big of an impact one stranger could have.

Coincidentally, this also happens the day before the President signs a bill which includes language extending the federal hate crimes law to protect people like me and tells Americans that it is no longer acceptable, in the eyes of the federal government, to hurt people because of who they love or who they are.

Well, there is no such thing as Homophobia.  A phobia means you are afeard of something.  Aracnaphobics don’t go out and hunt down the spiders.   They run away or lock up and do nothing.

Beating up a fag is called being an ASSHOLE, no homophobic.