When I first started this journey again, to heal my soul, and to discover who I am again, I knew it would be a mighty fucking move. Requiring me to overcome years of trauma. Revealing the most damaged, twisted, painful, lustful, sinful, savage parts of who I am. In the course of one link, I blew his back out and then argued vehemently with him after. I’ve found myself in some situations and positions that never would’ve been dreamed of. The places I’ve allowed myself to be… to do some of the things that I allowed myself to do… Damn, I really had reached a new low that I never seen before.

To know the origins of this recovery, you must know the depths of the destruction. From being on top, thriving, succeeding, growing, evolving, flourishing, productive, accomplished. These were the plaudits being given to You, described You. No matter which end of the spectrum You were viewed from, everyone knew one thing, You were going places nigga. Determined to set the world on fire because You had arrived, and everybody was gone take notice. You showed your deft touch of life by smoothing navigating soo many worlds. You always lived in the Gay one, but you had a professional one, and a separate private one that needed attention, and if you fucked up how You operated the Gay one, well, You was fucking up Your life.

We had a couple instances of those. Relationships where they started with so much passion, fire, and success. Loving and lusting all at the same time, for each other, or so I thought. Before I continue that story, let me take you all the way back to the beginning. To where I was born, and I knew who I was underneath the cloak of “straight-male life”. I was 16 years old, and I met, who I thought was a girl, this dope ass person in a teen chat. Once I saw a picture of her, turned out to be him… WTF?!?!?!?!?! Then he begged me to stop firing off and let him explain. I don’t know why I listened to him, but his soft, soothing voice permitted me to ease the fire boiling in my spirit. Ready to allow this man to possibly expose a truth that’s been waiting to escape for as long as I can remember. He explained himself to me, told me who he was and where he lived. I learned we had a mutual friendship with someone well known in our community. I was scared as fuck then, because nigga WHAT??? This man is the living proof that I’ve been gay, and understanding of it, since I was a teenager. He was the perfect person for me. I gushed like a lil bitch every time we talked. He just knew what to say to me. How to touch my soul with the softness, fondness, and affection of his words. Even when we would argue, because he didn’t answer the phone when I called. Knowing that at our ages, calling each other was kinda crazy… well for me only I later found out. His family knew he was gay, and they loved him even more for it. His brother told me how much he liked me, but because I wasn’t out and couldn’t come out, at that time, I was going to lose him. He said I just needed to come see his brother and everything would be fine. Because his brother loves me and if I’m not scared then I should show up because that means I love him, and we would work through anything together. He even offered me to stay at their house, if my family put me out the house.

I was immediately struck by this terrorizing fear. I froze like a nigga staring down the barrel. Understanding his fate is about to be determined by this next move. Could he, or couldn’t he? Do you want to be happy… or do you want to be accepted? He told me he would tell his brother I called, and he would have him call me back. I was so thankful nigga. LOL. I wanted him to know just how much I truly liked him. Like over the time we spent talking, it was the most effortless conversations I’ve had in life. We waxed poetically like lil kids. Laughing and giggling, serious and honest, thoughtful and affectionate, raunchy and vulnerable. I never thought I could experience what pure, real love is at such a young age. The true definition of high school sweethearts. Just, we don’t fit into the “common America” narrative. So, to have this much love, we gotta hide this shit for now. Until we’re old enough to do this on our own, by ourselves. I remember his brother telling me that if I moved there, I would have to get a job, because no one lived free. But, I would be safe and protected there. Won’t nobody gone fuck wit me. They were a family, and the reason he was so protective over his little brother is because he’s super sensitive. He loves hard as fuck, which means once he’s with and for you, you got a rider til the wheels break off that bitch.

All the things I needed to hear, he told me. I was prepared to step out there, give up everything if needed, because I loved this guy. I just didn’t trust the roots. I was so fuckin scared. I’m just a fuckin teenager, what do I know? How am I sure this is even real? For all I know, this could be a scam. Somebody playing and catfishing, you know. I do all this shit only to be played and look like a Fuckin fool! Ok, let me back up, because there’s details, I’m leaving out that evens the scales. Right now, I look super fuckin weak, and that shit ain’t right. Truth is, during our late night talks he would always ask me to come see him at work. He worked at Taco Bell across town. For me, that was like a 20 min drive, not bad at all. Problem was he worked late night, and I couldn’t leave that late. My momma was the coolest moms, real shit, but she knew what was outside late at night and as the mother of a young, dark-skinned, nigga with man features in my hometown, nigga that was a recipe for one of two things… jail or dead. Well, the third was in fuckin, and she was worried about that, but not with who she thought. LMFAO!! See she was worried about becoming a young grandma, she didn’t know, who I prefer to play wit ain’t no kids coming biologically, we would need a third. HA!!!!! But I digress. LMAO. So, she won’t having it when I asked to slide out late one night to see him at work. I started asking a few times and she began to ask questions. I changed tactics, and instead of waiting late, I would go outside and ask if I could stay out til 12 or 1. Long enough to let him get to work, then go see him.

She blocked that when I wouldn’t tell her exactly where I would be going. And the one time I did, her eyes lit up and it was like I spoke the forbidden language or some shit. LMFAO. She said no, and that was that for me. I wasn’t gone sneak out because I just didn’t wanna be that kid. I love my momma too much and I didn’t want to be a teenage statistic in Va. He didn’t give up on me, but he started to move away from me. I remember the day we broke up. He told me that he just didn’t want to wait anymore. His brother told him everything we talked about that night on the phone. And he asked me “why didn’t I do it yet?” I told him that I really want to so bad, but I just scared as fuck. I could feel the hurt in his voice and the pain in his eyes, he sighed so heavy and brokenly said “I understand.” With that it was over. He broke up with me, told me that he found another guy that was open like him, and they lived close to each other, and he was going to move on. He never closed the door on me though. He told me where he would be if I ever wanted to be happy. I never went, and I never got my high school sweetheart. It broke my soul and my spirit so badly. He was exactly what I wanted in a lover. Sweet, charming, passionate, funny, smart, thoughtful, vulnerable, open. He showed me what heart looks like in a man. I never understand his magical pull over me. How could this person just speak to me like I’m the only person in the world who matters. We laugh about our days. Him in his ratchet school, being the fem kid that just dripped his own sauce.

I would tell him about the boring shit that happened during my school day. He would laugh and always tell me it wasn’t boring. He wished he was there with me. Because we would have the school talking. LOL. Lowkey, I wish he was able to go to school with me to. I know coming out with him would’ve been so liberating. Living my happy truth, with the love of my life. My desire to keep him a secret is what kept us apart. I know had I told my momma I wanted to see my friend. Tell her his name and what school he goes too and where he stays, she would’ve reluctantly said yes. Her reluctance not because he’s a male, she actually would’ve been happy about that. It’s that he lives in a questionable area. She knows what can happen over there and she would be worried about my safety. But, not wanting to shield me from life, she would say yes. I would have to let her know when I got there though. And when I’m on my way home. Knowing how the energy was between me and him, I would probably fall asleep every night and get in trouble every time. But that would start my momma’s clock in her head about just who this boy was. Mothers aren’t stupid and mines sure wasn’t. She was attentive to her son. Me consistently saying I wanna go to the same place, that’s going to draw flags and I wasn’t ready for that. The judgement and questions of it all. I couldn’t face that at 16. I wasn’t ready. I needed to protect this image because I needed to feel loved and accepted. Despite, feeling the real love an acceptance from him.

When we talked about music it wasn’t just rap and shit. It was pop music and female R&B. Never judged, always supported, cheered and encouraged. Express myself as fully as I feel I need to. Allow myself to explore my feelings and my spirit. He was everything to me. But I couldn’t out my head, and I lost him. Once we lost contact that was it. I forgot him, so I could move on and not feel the pain of no longer having him. I would keep tabs on him here and there. Always looking him up to make sure he was good. I remember looking him up when we graduated high school. I saw his name and his honors. I was so proud of that man. Living life his way and accomplishing shit people said he wouldn’t. That was the origin of me. That’s where this journey began. And the most recent travels and movements forced me to find my way back to where I began. This began the birth/rebirth of me.

The second stop on this train was a 17-year love affair. Yea, I said that exactly right! A true fuckin Grease love affair. Met the most innocent of ways and began what was 17 years of chasing, loving, lying, evading, persuading, contemplating, faking and regretting. See the first one was full of young love and ambition. Pureness. This one had everything in it. Fake identities, fake deaths, lying, deceiving, honesty, humility, lust, love, passion, betrayal, humiliation, embarrassment. The extreme toxicity that permeated between us was damn near killer. We had this insatiable desire for the love of each other, but we never knew how to harness it and present it one another without burning the bridge almost to no repair to get there. It was a tiresome game of chicken. Who would blink first and last? I was in love with this man. He showed me that pure love, even though it was introduced to me under false terms. This nigga was just a young bull, full of life and ready to show people just how grown and ready for the world he was, especially the gay one. I’ll admit, he definitely had game. He was a chocolate pretty boy. Smooth baby face, sweet eyes, soft lips and this general innocence that was the magnet to get you caught. Once in the web you see it was mostly smoke with a few broken mirrors.

Each attempt an effort to show he mastered prior challenges that stopped his progression. Forgetting the first rule of return, you must come back to me present, not currently caught up from the past. Present means you’ve done all the work of the past and now of the present and You are presenting You to me now, ready to be all that I want and need in the now. He would always fall short of now, because he was so busy worried about what he didn’t right before, to do right now. We continued this circular dance for a long number of years. Catching each other at the wrong time for one of us. Never willing to be patient long enough for both of us to slide back into our rhythm. Knowing that we don’t need long. Never have, because our souls connect like the links of a fence or the links in a chain. Welded so beautifully as to perfectly catch the weight to evenly distribute it across your neck to gloriously display itself for the world to see on your beautiful body. Again, an effortless ease that everything happened. No matter in person or on the phone, we always fit like gloves. But his lustful playboy life, and my open grown man life never came into alignment. He was always busy trying to have 3 options in case the first option doesn’t work. And I was busy being free. Exploring the world and the brown men in it. We never gave warning to each other. We just found one another and encroached into our personal spaces. Ignoring if anyone was/ is already there. We will make time for each other, until we deliver the safe words that push us away until that person who’s there is gone. Always waiting but not really waiting. Living, while also listening. Once the sounds of freedom were given, there we were finding each other again. But I was tired of that. Tired of the lies and bullshit. All the antics and theatrics. We’ve done them for such a long time and now the curtain must finally drop. As sad and hurt as I was to have to make this move, it was necessary. It was the only way to ensure that this shit ended.

Normally, we would’ve found each other again by now. Reliving why we broke apart. Walking on eggshells, to not damage the fragile foundation we’re attempting to rebuild. Desiring to lust of each other again. Knowing what it could do, understanding it’s only likely a dying mate call. One last time for all the years of bullshit. Doing the thing that we never did enough of, but when we did… exactly as expected. But that’s not how life is playing. That book is finished, the final chapter written, the last period placed. I will always and forever love that man. For 17 years of my life, I could count on him to show up and the world would feel right for a little while. Only to be reminded of just how narcissistic he is. I’m just grateful for the love and heart that we shared. Fuck all the dumb shit, we made beautiful music for a long time, and I’m forever indebted to someone who was willing to ride the roller coaster of life with me.

This one needs more time to air. Part two of the healing story will come shortly. I have to finish explaining about those three times, the Gay life fucked up the Whole Personal life. Damn, talk about healing that had to be done… I’ll be back with that story soon.