One Gay at a Time

Just want to start today’s post by reminding everyone it is the International Day Against Homophobia, held on May 17 every year. Keep it in your thoughts today, and every day.

On with the show…

After Florida, it’s pretty clear I was no longer committed to a relationship. I needed to end it. It crushed me to think such thoughts, but my heart was no longer in it.

When I got back, I texted Broadway asking if we could talk. After a short exchange, I wasn’t sure if he could see what was coming. I agonized over how to break the news.

That night, I met him after his show; no overnight bag on my shoulder. We awkwardly hugged and exchanged a peck on the lips. He asked me if I was ok. I said, “Yes,” with a shrug. He asked me what I wanted to talk to him about. This was the moment of truth.

“I feel like we’ve been drifting apart over the past few weeks,” I said.

He responded, “That’s it?”

I said, “No. I just want to hear your thoughts.” After that, I elaborated. I explained my feelings about how he acted during his trip to Barcelona and the previous weeks in general. He silently walked beside me taking it all in. I was so proud of myself for saying how I truly felt. I didn’t sugar coat it.

When I finished, he took his turn. He told me all my points were fair and valid, but I could never be prepared for what came next. He said, “You’re just not a priority in my life right now. I have school and work…”

I felt like someone punched me in the gut. I turned to him and said, “I have to say, that was very hard to hear.” I began to get a little choked up. Until then, I was strong and resolved in breaking up, but that statement tainted out entire relationship together. I wasn’t prepared to hear anything so harsh.

He acknowledged his emotional issues and his inability to call me his boyfriend. He also took the opportunity to unload a lot of issues he’d been holding back for some time. He pointed out my issues with the gay scene. I have never felt comfortable in gay clubs, and he knew this. He went on to tell me how uncomfortable and threatened he felt going to my favorite straight bar in Hobobken.

This was news to me. I defended myself. While not comfortable with the flamboyant gay scene, he never asked me to go. With the right crowd and understanding, I’m sure I could find comfort. I was uncomfortable because it was not familiar to me. He never gave me a chance.

This went back-n-forth. It never turned into a fight. We never fought through the 10 months we were in a relationship. We weren’t about to start now. It was a discussion about our differences. We came to an agreement. Although we were very compatible, we were not meant to be dating.

The conversation turned casual. He showed me pictures on his phone from Barcelona and asked about Florida. The he asked me how drinks with Boston went. After blatantly lying about its innocence, he said, “Well I had to ask. You know how it could look from my perspective.”

I immediately rebuked with, “Well, you have to know how it looks when you buy 2 bottles of lube the day you go away.”

He explained. He bought it for us to use. It was just cheaper than usual. And then added, “But, touché. I could see ho that looks shady.”

After walking around the city talking for an hour, I dropped him at his apt. We kissed and embraced. Finally, I pulled back and said, “Just because we’re not dating doesn’t mean we can’t hang out.”

As I walked to Port Authority, I felt power. Before this night, I don’t know if I would have had the confidence to be a person who set in motion the actions that would end a relationship. I was a new man who was about to fully exercise his new found freedom.