Distanced Friends

I’m sorry it came as a shock. It was quite a shock for me too. I get it, well, at least I get some of it. I’m not the person you thought I was, and no matter how long you’d known me before my coming out, that’s been a hard adjustment for you. It took a bit for me to adjust also, and I gave myself plenty of time before I told you. This was on purpose.

For starters, and to be honest, I had to see if was going to be worth it, personally; laying aside the fact that I am now happily married, I foresaw nothing of the sort back then. (I had yet to even meet the soul who is now my wife.)  So with the assumption that I would stay happily single, was it really going to be worth the risk? I wasn't sure.

Soon enough, I had to change my line of questioning. As I became comfortable in my own skin, I realized how much freer I’d become. I wanted this for others—for you. Believe it or not, I thought of you and others and how I’d feel if the tables were turned. Would I want you to hide who you were, even if you were happier, because I was uncomfortable with it? Hiding who we are is not a healthy way for us to live. I don’t want others, no doubt others who are in your life right now, hiding for fear of rejection.Yeah, they're there in your life, they just haven't gotten up the courage to tell you yet.

It is true, I am different than I was in many ways. I’m happier. I’m freer. I’m more honest. I even think I’m funnier, but that may be up for debate! I am myself. At least I am becoming more myself every day—it’s a journey. I really wish you knew me now! I wake up each day alive—not just breathing, but alive!

Okay, so now the details. Yeah, that.  I am gay, and I have a wife, and you’re uncomfortable with that. It doesn’t have to be awkward you know. Do you have questions? Ask. (Yes, we have sex, and, no, I won't talk about it.) No questions? No worries. We don’t make a habit of sitting around and forcing others to talk about being gay. Do you sit around and talk about being straight? We’re all so much more than one dimensional; we're more alike than we are different. We just want to spend time with you.

My wife and I, we love to talk. We play scrabble. We cook together. We walk together. We write, we hike, we laugh...often. We plan our future together. My wife is studying human rights, we’re both concerned about climate change, so those topics are always on the table for discussion if you'd prefer.

We’re now [sort of] legally married in all states. Did you know that? My colleagues at work congratulated me when I walked into work that day.  It made me smile. While I didn’t expect a call from you, I thought about how nice it would have been. Whatever you’ve been taught about the evils of my life is wrong. I know, I once thought all those horrible things myself, about myself, but they’re unfounded and harmful.

Lastly, I simply miss you in my life, and it saddens me that you don’t know my wife. She’s really something. (Last week, her dentist asked me if I knew that I was married to the nicest person in the world. I quickly told him I was aware.) 

Let's face it. You and me, we’ll we’ve been through some intense shit together, if I may be so bold, and you were the kind of person I wanted to hang onto in this life. Honestly, you were the kind of person I thought would see this thing through.

We’re in this thing called life together, you know. I value your place in my life; I wish you’d come around more often.

Peace to you and your journey,

Your gay friend

***As is my life, this blog is a work in progress; my desire is to facilitate constructive and respectful conversations about life and our collective journey towards peace. This has become an obsession. Please add "your two cents worth" below, and feel free to share this blog. 

The more the merrier! Understanding ourselves helps us understand others; therefore bringing us one step closer to attaining peace.***