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Tuesday, January 27, 2015

Requiem or Open Letter to the Last Three Dudes Who Broke My Heart & Anyone Intending to Do So in the Future

I'm not sure quite why I wanted to write this. I am generally not a person whose life is an open book. Some things I keep to myself on occasion. A lot of people in real life probably didn't even know I was in several relationships recently. Not that I am closeted or ashamed about it. I was excited in fact. And in love pretty much. But I am just not a person who crows about my life. I often fear that I'll bore people. I certainly bore myself a lot of the time. And neither am I the kind of person who will post a vitriolic attack on former boyfriends basically giving them the verbal equivalent of a barium enema. Not that I won't let them have it. I can be as catty as the next queer guy (don't worry some cattiness is coming shortly). But I usually try for subtlety. Or simple honesty. That hurts sometimes way more than a foul-mouthed diatribe. And going back to the topic of me not crowing about my life, I am also not the kind of person who would post something like this as a show of my strength. I mean, gimme a break. If I was really strong I WOULD crow about my life and be prideful of my appearance and be happy where I am. So why, then, am I writing this? Well, for one thing I needed to vent. And also not to show "strength" per se, but maybe just "perseverance". Sort of an "I'm Still Here fuckholes" message to the dudes who came and went, sometimes sadly, not in that order. So maybe, just this once, I'll do some of the things above. And maybe blow my own horn in the process since it doesn't occur very often (not since eighth grade when I was flexible enough). To be fair, one of the relationships I'm referencing in this post wasn't even a loving one but "best friends", lets say. When you wake up and text somebody every morning and numerous times throughout the day and then don't go to bed without talking or texting with them, that ladies and gentlemen, is a pretty deep relationship in my book. So I don't care that it wasn't love or a boyfriend, I'm lumping it in with the rest because I felt it just as deeply and hurt just as badly when it was ended. The intricacies almost don't matter. Long distance. Being closeted (not me). Having a family that would rather make you miserable by putting you into conversion therapy than make you happy and fulfilled by admitting that you like men and therefore don't fit the religious image they had of you in their heads. And simply being used for money. I don't have much money so lets just say I'm particularly sensitive to this issue. But when I love I love with my whole heart, and consequently my whole wallet. Its only when it turns out later that I was being used that I become bitter. So whether it was a hundred dollars for antidepressant medication so they might stop wanting to kill themselves as much, or a massive care package shipped, or money for an outfit they desperately needed for a fashion show, I supplied them. And I didn't mind. Only later, when not just those actions but also myself were taken for granted, did I regret. But regret is something I try not to revel in. True, I have many. I just try not to dwell. So back to why I wrote this. I wanted to try and salvage something positive out of something that had become very negative. I can't say I never end up hating people. That would be an out and out lie. But I do try not to hate people that I once loved. And for the most part, I don't. But I've been feeling a little despondent lately. So this is to counteract that. This is, therefore, an open letter to my recently lost loved ones:

I still think about you. I often wonder if you really cared about me enough to say the same. Its hard sometimes not to be angry, either at you or at Fate for continuously putting me in this situation. I try not to think badly of you. Or of us. I try to focus on the positive. In that regard, I can't wish ill feelings on you. That doesn't mean I don't want your future relationships (a few of which were the reason I was abandoned) to crash and burn. That's asking a little much. I do want you to be happy just like I want myself to be happy. I suppose in the long run learning that we were not meant to be together was an integral part of that journey. It would be easy to bury myself in cynicism. But that has never been my mandate. I was, is, and always will be a romantic. That was one of the things you loved about me. So I'm still here. Still looking. Still trusting my heart despite the fact that it is misguided an awful lot of the time. Regardless of what you might think in hindsight, I loved you. And that is not to be taken lightly. Just as I will continue to not take it lightly going forward. Live defiantly. Love boldly. And maybe, every now and again, regret that it will not be with me.


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