Silent Christmas

How do I start this without leaving any point untouched? Because you know holiday sadness randomly hits you and you cannot deal with it. You could just be out and a wave would hit you and you’d lose your composure completely. So now, you’re fighting for your life to get that energy back.

Being a queer person is hard enough, but being a queer person during the holiday is worse, isn’t it? Especially for those who spend the time with their families, where you are peppered with questions and interrogations, and the struggle to not over-share is right there if you’re in the closet. Families are reunited and everyone is happy and discussing their progress in the year past, who they are seeing, what babies they’ve had, some of them preparing for the festivities of their Christmas nuptials. And there you are, with a forced smile, dodging the bullets of their intrusive questions about your own life, for how can they understand what they do not like?

How can you tell them about the man you loved and the aching pain you feel from no longer being with him?

I ended my relationship with my ex months ago. It was a complicated situation, but it started after he caved under pressure and decided to get into a relationship with a woman and start a family.

“I want to make my mother happy,” he’d said to me, and I understood. He was thirty-two and I’m just in my early twenties. I imagined he was living a different struggle with his family than I was.

Initially, I thought I would be fine with it. He wanted us to continue seeing each other and I agreed to be the other person. He was the first guy I’d ever dated and I didn’t want to feel like I had given up on my relationship at the first sign of tribulation.

But then the questions and doubts started coming. How could I agree to be second place in his life? Was I not dumb for wanting to be with a man who could now, for sure, never be all mine? The woman he wants to marry will always be prioritized over me… Could I handle that reality?

I quickly found out, as he began dating her, that I couldn’t.

Other issues began to crack our relationship.

Before long, I realized that this wasn’t what I wanted. And we broke up.

A mutual friend recently told me that he has already introduced the woman to his parents, and they plan on commencing with the introductions next year. Our breakup is still too fresh for me to know how to feel about that, but I hope he is happy and I wish him the best.

But I will never forget how I lost something good to the intolerance and homophobia of this society.

Anyone who said sex takes away the sadness of losing love didn’t lie. But how much sex is enough for you to totally get rid of it? Ever since the breakup, I have been on dating apps, meeting people, having sex. But once I get home, I realize I want more. It’s like an aching emptiness that I have to fill, and so, I get on the app and I seek more sex. It’s as though I am searching for something that I hope I will find from all the sex.

I met a guy a few days ago, and I had a great time with him. The sex was good and rough, and I was bruised. And as I left his place, I could feel my body craving for…for… what? I don’t know. If sex is therapy, why wasn’t it working for me? Is this why we gays fuck all the time? Are we to just carry on fucking to make up for the things we can’t have?

I really want to know, because at this point, it seems as though I am fucking all these guys to stay sane.

Christmas is here, and this season of everyone celebrating love and their lives coming full circle only seems to emphasize how lonely and tired I feel. Everywhere I look, heterosexual people are holding hands, cuddling into their loved ones and being happy. And I remember that I could have had this, but I lost my something good to homophobia.

I don’t know how to end this, but I know for sure I will be having sex tomorrow, since it has become an escape for me.

Written by IBlameHetPeople