There’s a reason I broke up with you so abruptly. I knew that I was
your first serious girlfriend and that you were ready to give yourself
to me. But I also knew that I was gay. It was wrong of me to use you
the way I did when you were such a good boyfriend. And yet I trudged
through the relationship in hopes of one day enjoying your embraces and
realizing that I couldn’t possibly be gay. I soon decided that,
although you loved me, I couldn’t continue with my deception. You
didn’t believe me when I said “It’s not you; it’s me.” But it really
was me.
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I was that boyfriend about 25 years ago. It hurt like hell. I needed a change of scene so badly that I had to leave the country. If she had just told me the truth, I would have accepted it easily and avoided searing pain. I know it was hard for her to tell me, though (a friend of hers clued me in later), and I do wish her the very best.
I was that girl about 15 years ago. Sorry I broke it off so abruptly and didn’t explain further. I had been given 24 hours to clean house before I was to be outed against my will. I didn’t even know if I was gay. Sorry you were caught in the fall out. Let me assure you that there was enough searing pain to overflow the pits of hell not including the pain of your sorry, teen ass.
While you were busy hurting like hell, I was busy being persecuted for a sexuality I wasn’t even secure in. I was outed, kicked out, trying to finish high school, working the swing shift at my newly acquired minimum wage job, dealing with my parents trying to have me institutionalized, avoiding skeevy predators/high school teachers who were trying to “help me” and trying to find someone who would rent to a minor with no references and no deposit without requiring a blow job. Sorry I didn’t just “tell you the truth” and spare you the searing pain. I was busy.
Sorry it hurt you so badly that you had to leave the country. I needed a change of scene rather badly myself. Of course, the best I could do was to scrape together the money for the bus ride to the nearest big city three hours away. I believe you ended up there as well, going to college. I was cleaning toilets.
Today I am a big, out dyke with a college degree. I did love you- so much so that I couldn’t bring myself to burden you with the truth. I do wish you the very best.
I was that girlfriend about 15 years ago. Sorry I broke it off so abruptly and didn’t explain further. I had been given 24 hours to clean house before I was to be outed against my will. I didn’t even know if I was gay. Sorry you were caught in the fall out. Let me assure you that there was enough searing pain to overflow the pits of hell not including the pain of your sorry, teen ass.
While you were busy hurting like hell, I was busy being persecuted for a sexuality I wasn’t even secure in. I was outed, kicked out, trying to finish high school, working the swing shift at my newly acquired minimum wage job, dealing with my parents trying to have me institutionalized, avoiding skeevy predators/high school teachers who were trying to “help me” and trying to find someone who would rent to a minor with no references and no deposit without requiring a blow job. Sorry I didn’t just “tell you the truth” and spare you the searing pain. I was busy.
Sorry it hurt you so badly that you had to leave the country. I needed a change of scene rather badly myself. Of course, the best I could do was to scrape together the money for the bus ride to the nearest big city three hours away. I believe you ended up there as well, going to college. I was cleaning toilets.
Today I am a big, out dyke with a college degree. I did love you- so much so that I couldn’t bring myself to burden you with the truth. I do wish you the very best.