Learning to live and love again

I’ve realized that a lot of my posts refer to, but never address one of the biggest trials, other then my grandma and my dads passing, I’ve ever dealt with. 

In 2004 being homosexual was just becoming more accepted, not as celebrated as it is today, but it was becoming something people were more accepting of. 

I’ve always been the type of person that wouldn’t judge a person based on anything other then the person they were, it didn’t matter if you are bisexual, heterosexual, homosexual, asexual, white, black, Asian, Hispanic, East Asian, purple or green. It didn’t matter to me, maybe that’s why he was able to be so honest with me. 

I remember the day like it was yesterday; the day I met the most gorgeous man I had ever laid my eyes on. He was tall, tanned and had the most gorgeous sea green eyes. I fell in love so quickly, and I know people think a 14 year old doesn’t understand love, but after you finish reading this you’ll see that my love for him is real. 

He was my first everything. I was beyond content in his arms, his family loved me and mine loved him. I know, now, that when something seems to good to be true it usually is. 

4 months into our relationship, I remember the day like it was yesterday, we went to a movie with two of his friends. I honestly don’t remember how the topic came up, I was so confused why he was hiding the fact he went to the movies with a guy. Still to this day I can’t go into that movie theatre without having a panic attack. I was angry, angry that he lied to me, unable to understand why he wouldn’t tell me about hanging out with a guy. We went back to his mom’s house, he asked me to sit on his lap. In his room on that cold December night he told me he loved me, but he thought he was bisexual. I looked at him bewildered, I asked him if he was sure, told him I loved him no matter his sexual preference. 

Any time I tell someone that they have a hard time believing I was 14, my love was so strong that I was willing to look past anything God threw our way and love him anyways. I remember going to cypress mountain with his family on New Year’s Eve. When I showed up at his house he was on msn talking to this guy. I remember being so hurt, I tried, so hard to enjoy tubing and the snow, knowing our time was coming to an end. I was beyond crushed knowing that I’d loose him and his family. I loved his mom and grandma almost as much as I loved him and I’d miss them just as much as I’d miss him. 

I broke down, I forget why but I remember sitting with him in the snow. Through my tears, unable to breath, I told him I wanted him to be happy, I wanted him to experience being with a guy if that’s what made him happy. I told him I understood and that I’ll always love him. I told him that he and I needed to break up. The drive back to my house was awful. I walked into my house and broke down; I cried so hard for days. Still to this day I cry thinking back on the day I felt my heart break. 

I don’t remember how or why my whole school found out about him being gay, probably through someone I thought was my friend. It got so bad my teachers were even bullying me; us. 

Mister Padraic O’donnell if you ever come across this know that your bullying, playing its raining men and saying, in front of a class I wasn’t even a part of, that it was dedicated to him contributed to my anxiety and depression, you were a huge reason I felt uncomfortable at that school. Still to this day I hate you more then any person In the world. If I had the chance I would cause you unbelievable pain like you caused me. 

I tried to go on with my life, tried to keep myself busy. It was a few weeks later when he called me and asked to come over. I was hurting so I was short with him. He was running his fingers through my hair and asked me if he could have my hair, I told him no. Again I was bewildered and looked at him like he was crazy. He then asked me if he could have me again. I said yes, thinking I could change his sexual orientation. I know now that you can’t change a person, but at 14 I was dumb. 

It was an awful 5 months. 

We didn’t trust each other, we fought all the time. My grandma died and he wasn’t anywhere to be found, I found comfort in other people, in my friends at school. I was angry, untrusting; I turned to other guys for the attention I wanted. Guys that were “bad boys”; the ones with weed in their lockers and multiple run ins with the cops, the ones who weren’t metrosexual at all. 

I still had love for him but I wasn’t in love with him. I found out he was talking to another guy, and I was done. He told me if I broke up with him he’d “become” gay, and at that point I couldn’t take it. I told him it was over and hung up on him. Ignoring his calls and texts for days I grieved the loss of my first love. 

I didn’t believe he’d actually come out, that it was just another one of his passive aggressive comments he used to hurt me, but he did. I blamed myself. 
Shockingly we stayed friends after. It took a while, but we were civil. I even became friends with the guy he started dating. He turned to partying and almost died from a drug overdose. He was my best friend for many years after that, I got to witness his trials, understand the struggles gay youth have to over come.

We just recently stopped being friends, he’s a completely different person and back on drugs. Although our lives are different now he’ll always have a place in my heart and life. 

I can play it off, act like I’m some strong, understanding person but deep down that experience took something away from me. I’m unable to trust myself or other people; I constantly blame myself for “turning” him gay, although my rational brain tells me I didn’t, as did he. I’m petrified to become intimate with someone, while sober, because my past makes me believe there is something wrong with me. I tell people it’s from being molested but even before Ryan I wasn’t able to, I tried once and the moment it started a pulled away hysterically crying. My irrational fears stop me from achieving the one thing I want the most, no not sex you dirty mind, but a family. 

I voiced that for the first time recently and for once in a long time I felt like a weight was lifted off of my soul. 

I’m not saying my life will change over night, but I feel like I can heal now. I feel like it’s beyond time I learn to live and love again. 

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One thought on “Learning to live and love again

  1. Wow! I really “felt” the words in this post, I wish you every success in your continued healing. It might be hard to see now but life will probably present you with new opportunities when you least expect it. Good luck!

    Like

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