Youth Nailed to the Pillar of Shame: the Pain and Regret of Being in a Rehabilitation Center

At my eighteenth birthday party, someone took out my diary and read it aloud. "He actually likes men, it's so disgusting." The thoughts hidden in the dark are exposed in the sun. I looked at him expectantly. He pulled the woman next to him and kissed the corner of her mouth, "I have someone I like. As for him, this is a disease and needs to be cured." Every word he nailed me to the pillar of shame. After coming out of the retreat, his breath was hot, "Don't you like this?" At that moment, it felt like someone was holding my breath and my stomach was churning. The filth I spit out stained his clothes, and he said painfully: "Stay away from me." There was astonishment in his disbelieving eyes, "Isn't your diary filled with love for me?" Still love it? Don't dare to love anymore.