Rhapsodist Writing Contest # 5. What is terrible to say

I noticed this guy late at night in our park. He stood on a steep bank, and gazed steadily at the water. I passed several laps along the pond, and he was still standing, moving ever closer to the precipice.

I approached him, firmly took her hand and asked:

• Boy, are you feeling bad?

He jerked forward, but I was on the alert, and kept him from leaping. For some time we fought, but I was able to drag him from the cliff.

• What do you need? - he shouted.

• Nothing. But I can not watch someone jumping into the water. I have to jump into the pond, and I do not know how to swim. - I tried to joke.

• But I still jump when you leave!

• But why? Think what a grief your mother will have!

• And think, what grief she will have if she finds out that I'm gay!

• But you're not gay today? - I was surprised. - Your mother's fine so far. What changed?

• I never told anyone about this. - Now he was sobbing. - I was hoping I could handle myself. But no...

• Many gays live well and even become famous. - I consoled. - Let's go with you and I'll tell your mother everything.

• Do not. - He wiped his tears on his sleeve and smiled slightly. - You're right, I'll live. Are the others living?

And we said goodbye. He really left the park and got on the passing bus.