An Open Letter To The Man Hiding Inside his Closet
I was 18 years old when we met. I did not know much about you. You have a soft voice, softer than mine. You have this thing with the way you walk. Your behavior and gestures confused me at times, and I didn’t know why. For a moment, I doubted if you were straight; I’m not gonna lie.
One day, I asked my mom if there was even a slight possibility that you’re gay. She stopped me and said, “No, you don’t make assumptions that someone is not straight by the way they move or talk.” After having that conversation with my mom, I realized I was just overthinking. I felt bad for doubting you. Good people like you don’t deserve that.
Weeks passed; my doubts were then replaced by feelings—oh yes, feelings that were indescribable at that time. I hardly ever thought that you would like me, until one day you confessed having feelings for me. I did not know what to do nor say. Yet I gave it a chance.
Months passed; everything was going well between us. Until one day, we got into a huge fight. After a momentary pause, you looked at me and said that you can’t do “us” anymore. I asked you why. But you didn’t say a word. I asked again, but you still chose to remain silent. Finally after a few minutes of waiting, slowly, you uttered these words, words that shattered every hope I have of you and me:
I am gay. I thought I can pretend having feelings for you, but I realized I can’t hide inside that suffocating closet anymore. It’s exhausting. Let’s stop here. I’m sorry.
Every part of my being felt betrayed, I wanted to scream, flip tables, and punch you in the face. Surprisingly, I walked away without saying anything. Perhaps, at that time I was not ready.
Two years later, as I try to recall everything that has happened. I ended up writing this letter with the things that I could’ve said to you…
My dearest,
You had no right to treat me as if I was your guinea pig, someone on whom you can experiment. I am not a makeup product that you can test. You had no right to mislead me with the letters you wrote, sunflowers you sent, and songs you serenaded me to.
You had no right to show me off in public just so you can prove to them that you are capable of being in a relationship with a woman. You had no right to confuse me with the hints that you were dropping. You had no right to tell me that you loved me even if you never actually meant it.
I deserved more than a pretend relationship. I deserved honesty from you. I deserved to be respected. I deserved to be loved without reservations, excuses, and lies. And so do you.
I heard you still chose to remain inside that suffocating closet of yours after “us.” It saddens me to know that you haven’t gotten the freedom that you have been longing for ever since you were five. I can never blame you for not being strong enough to stand up for who you really are, because we can’t deny that this society can be judgmental at times. I can never imagine the pain that you’re feeling each time you try to break free. I know that you never really intended to hurt me, but circumstances pushed you. I may never understand the struggle and confusion that you are dealing with up to this day. But believe me; I’m trying no matter how difficult it may be.
And though the pain that you have inflicted upon me is something that I can still feel from time to time, please believe me when I tell you not to fear what other people would say. Fear not the judgments, discrimination, and stigma. Fear not the idea of not meeting someone who would accept you; believe me, someone does, someone will. Fear not the hate that other people would feel toward you. Fear not the assholes that would try to bring out the worst in you. Fear not the idea that someone would not love you. Fear not the uncertainty of the future.
Have faith in yourself and in humanity.
One day, I hope you have the courage to step out of that closet and be free. I hope you meet someone who will truly accept you. And lastly, I hope you find happiness within yourself and embrace who you are.
Amidst everything, to me you are still a good person.
Your friend and the person, who once loved you,
Alyson