Letters to a gay man


DEAR HOMOSEXUAL.The clock's ticked through at least six months time since our lips last exchanged breaths of clear minded humor, our hands grasping at the promises we never intended to keep isn't it funny how the mutters of the masses change the minds of the few? How funny it is to be so naive and to wake up in the arms of someone who never intended to keep you. You are not just a person I fell in love with you are an ocean that I drowned in, something so vast and complex that I yearned to spend a lifetime swimming through your waters but I ended up drowning in what I thought was the shallow end. You are the most tragic and beautiful creature that has ever graced my presence, if I could put it in a shitty metaphor; the loose thread that unravels my entire sweater and I'm still not sure whether I'm willing to put it back together again. What once was a love so innocent and free plunged into a whirlwind of depressive episodes, colliding into a mass of thick black smoke that was multiplied whenever I made you laugh, that grew darker whenever our lips exchanged vows of forever and always  and grew more poisonous every time someone asked me if you were gay. I grew to hate that word but not the people attatched to it, it's a smoky thickness I grew to feel the less we saw each other and I know you did too but smoke is something that tends to disappear so I guess we just figured we had nothing to fear. You can watch the smoke dissappear but no one cares to check for the cancer.  I gave up so much just to dive into you. and six months later I notice those loving words that left scars on my heart being etched into the hands of your new man to be reciprocated back into your screwed up mind. I know we said we'd be friends forever but it seems I'm still recieving secondhand smoke and it's something I'm struggling to clear from my lungs. You misunderstand the habits of the women you devoted yourself to when you wrote your story so confusing and dark that we could never love the hand at the end of the pen though the welcoming voice was what drew us in, your heartbeat created pulses and sound waves translated through ears that could only understand it if they knew the real you; it was a distress call-I saw that-but I never got to see you. so it'll stay there, quietly in the smoke that is fading into questions and wondering thoughts of those friends that knew well the intentions of our hearts but stayed quiet when we were manipulated by the intentions of our minds. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder but why did it turn out to be our demise? I am not here to diss your lifestyle, forever will I be an ally, even after I question whether you still deserve it. Dear other homosexuals. I am so happy for you that you've figured out who you are. and I pray that it has not cost any hearts in the process.


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