QColumn: A Gay In The Life: Letters

Letters
By Steve Prince
Wow. It’s amazing how you feel after you just get laid. Granted, Domingo was a big boy and I was a bit sore. But sex sore is different.
Think about it. When you’re climbing some stairs and you feel a muscle in your hamstring tense from being tight you think, “Oh, I’m sore” but then you remember why—”Oh yeah, I got pounded like a featherweight boxer in the ring with Mike Tyson last night.” And then you smile.
Hence, today was a damned good day. I’m feeling good, the sun is shining. What more could a boy want?
Just then my phone began vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and looked at the caller ID.
“513?” I said aloud, wondering where this call was coming from. I almost answered it because I don’t really screen my calls anymore. I usually don’t mind talking to anyone. However, this time something told me to wait.
A minute later I checked my voice mail.

“Hey Steve,” a meek voice said through my phone, “It’s Summer. I was just calling to say hi. Um… you might be mad at me for not calling in a while. But please call me back. I really really need to talk to you. Please call me back.”
It was Summer, my old queer dear. The last time I’d heard from her was three years ago (well, besides a random Christmas card a couple of years ago). I groaned.
Why is it that when you feel invincible something like this comes along and opens up a wound? Summer was a part of my life I had closed; I had moved on.
At least that’s what I thought. I didn’t respond to the message and it drove Summer crazy. Over the next week I received about fourteen voicemails and a Facebook friend request. I wasn’t responding to try to be hurtful. I felt that even responding a little bit would be opening up Pandora’s box. Here messages got increasingly more desperate. Soon she was crying, and saying she needed to talk to me about something important. Next, she was saying she wanted to talk to me about her grandparents, Nonni and Poppi. Finally, she was begging and Summer was not stopping. I think I would have to respond to let her know that I was done with the relationship.
Finally she sent me an email, titled “Missing You”:

Hey Steve,
I hope that you will take the time to read this email. I miss you very much. I know that I have not been a great friend over the past year, but I was dealing with a lot of my own stuff. I was hospitalized in the psychiatric ward 3 times during the past year because I was having suicidal thoughts. It was part of the postpartum depression I experienced. I am feeling much better now as they tweaked medications were tweaked while in the hospital. Please believe me when I say that I am not using this as an excuse for not keeping in touch with you; I just want you to understand what was going on with me. I really miss you and our friendship. Please email me back or call me or write me on Facebook – anything! I hope this email finds you well and I hope desperately to hear from you soon.
Love,
Summer

As I read the email, I started to become angry. A normal response that Summer had been depressed would be empathy, but to me it just felt like another ploy of manipulation for her and try to continue our relationship.
I paused. It seemed so cruel for me to think this way and so un-emotional. It wasn’t like me and it made me feel foreign in my own skin.
And then it hit me. This just wasn’t about Summer; it was about neediness in my life.
Neediness had shown its face and manipulated me since I was in high school. Even though it wasn’t a relationship, I was friends with a man (who I think is now gay) and he was incredibly emotionally dependent on me. I graduated high school and I met my first boyfriend, who was needy as well. When we broke up, I met Summer.
I realized that Neediness had been in my life over ten years and that I had taken great steps to exorcise it from my life. In fact, I think that’s why I’d taken so long to get close to someone in a relationship; I was scared of the neediness coming back. It’s terrible to feel that you are always putting someone else first and always feeling like you can’t do anything right. It’s not worth it. Suddenly, the anger went away and I realized I actually felt liberated and relieved that I was forming new friendships and new relationships in my life. Hopefully, healthy relationships.
It took me another week, but I finally wrote an email to Summer. You might find it a bit harsh, but I had to be honest. I had to let her go; I had to say goodbye to Neediness. For me it is a bit harsh; I’m not this type of person. Sometimes you have to do things that feel uncomfortable because they are the things that need to be done… I guess that’s growth. Or at least I hope it is.
Dear Summer,
I’ve listened to your voicemails, read your emails, and your messages from friends. I know that you’ve wanted me to respond and I haven’t meant to cause you any pain. This was a chapter in my life I had closed and your contact has reopened this somewhat; I’ve needed time to deal with it all.
Here’s where I’m at with all this…
Three years ago, you moved on. You mentioned that Depression and Suicidal Thoughts had attacked you this past year, hence you’ve been absent from contacting me; Summer, you moved on without me long before that. As soon as you met your husband, it wasn’t weeks before I had been replaced in your life. And honestly, I can’t blame you. You finally pursued what you wanted in life. From the moment I met you, your goal was to become a wonderful wife and incredible mother. You have that now, and you are living the life you have always wanted to live. The life that you always dreamed would make you happy. I don’t know if you would have found that if you hadn’t removed me from the equation. So good for you for going after what you want in life—I mean it. I wish I had done that long ago.
When I look back on our relationship, I realize it was toxic for both of us and extremely co-dependent. You needed to be taken care of and I needed to take care of someone, hence we filled each other’s needs. But that was years ago, and now—at least speaking from my perspective—my needs have changed. I don’t need or want to take care of you… or anyone for that matter.
But enough of the past, let’s look to the present. In your messages you mentioned your grandparents and your life now. I have thought of Nonni & Poppi; I loved them dearly. However, now I don’t know them anymore. When you mentioned them in your message I thought they could be sick or—God forbid—had passed away. But then I realized that, again, both of those relationships had died within me a long time ago. The memory of them was what I missed and when I realized it was the memory and not the people they are now, I let them go from my life.
As you talk of your own life, I have no idea of knowing how to deal with your problems or you because I don’t know you now anymore. You’re a stranger to me. I know more about the life of my FedEx man than I do yours. I’m not saying these things to be mean, but rather to illustrate to you that I think you’re not missing me; I feel you are missing the memory of me. I mean, think about it. What kind of person do you think I am now? How can you imagine I’ve changed? What would it be like for you to have to deal with your own feelings of re-mending a past friendship with the new me? I would think you might feel that you weren’t getting the support from me you remember. Perhaps you’re missing the type of support I gave you before? You’re missing the Steve that was your roommate and constant companion. You’re missing the Steve who felt he couldn’t do things on his own for fear of hurting your feelings. You’re missing the Steve who was unable to find validation in himself. And you’re missing the Steve who was afraid to say no.
But that was the old me.
Summer, I have no desire to rekindle a friendship with you and, honestly, I never want you or your world to be a part of my life again. Please read that sentence again. Now acknowledge it, begin to accept it, and—most importantly—please respect my request. It’s important you know that I’m not saying this in anger. Honestly, I’m saying it with the love and respect I have for myself. I need more from my friends and I don’t trust that you can give it to me. I thought about just not responding to any of your messages but I remember the hurt of being dropped off the face of the Earth without a word.
My only wish in all of this is that you would have told me that you were moving on with your life; then this wouldn’t be a wound still open for both of us. I am glad to hear that you are doing better and that you are getting help. I can only hope that as you deal with the end of this friendship, you can rely on support from your family, friends, and therapists. Please do not try and contact me in any way ever again. Even if you respond to this email or try and call, I will delete it without viewing it. I am gone and I won’t be there save you anymore.
One thing I’ve realized in examining relationships is that often two great people just aren’t meant to coexist. I think that’s us. I do not think you were meant to come into my life to be a lifelong friend. Instead, because of you other things happened. You introduced me to Dr. E, who changed my confidence about singing. You gave me the friendship of Karen, which I will cherish forever. You introduced me to the people that brought me to California, which in turn gave me amazing friends. And moving to California has enriched and changed my world. I’ve made friends with a group of men who are the rock of my life. They are able to provide the friendships that I have always needed. I hope that you have or will find that.
You gave all that to me. You changed my life. Now please, let me go live it.
In gratitude,
Steve
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A California boy with a Southern heart, Steve Prince finds himself in so many sexual positions it can make your head spin. Thankfully for us he’s willing to share it all…no matter how sordid it gets. Quick to admit when he fucks up, Steve still laughs it all off, and hopes you will too. Also, it should also be noted he is gayer than glitter.
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Previously, on A Gay In The Life:
The Birds and The Birds
Lyin’, & Twinks, & Bears—Oh My!
Going Public
Christmas in July
Luck Be A Lady Tonight
I Left My Heart In Oklahoma
As Luck Would Have It
Shock & Awe
Blame It On Britney
The Unending Journey
Makin’ Copies
Bullets and Bracelets… and Lube
To Tell The Truth…
Stars Aren’t Blind
The Dark Knight
Come As You Are
A Date?
A Happy Ending
Better Than Nothing
A Man With A Slow Hand
Taking The Long Way
Everybody Knows
Wake Me Up, Before Ya Go-Go
Definition
The Best
The Upper Hand
Hit Me With Your Best Shot
2000-Date
Dick The Halls
The Queer Dear
A Night At The Museum
A Conversation
I’m Just A Girl Who Can’t Say No
Change The Way You Feel
Kissing A Fool
Leo The Lamb
The Elephant In The Room
Zuckerman’s Famous Pig
A Birthday Surprise
The Sleepover-er
SP Phone Home
Out of the Frying Pan and into the Closet
What If…
Just Beat It
Intimate Portrait
Intimate Portrait (Part Deux)
Intimate Portrait (Part Trois)
State of Mind
The Age of Disbelief
A Man For All Seasons
Summer Lovin’
A-Men
The Urge
Gettin’ It Done
Here You Cum Again
Eye Of The Beholder
The Present
A Minute’s Pause
Brotherly Love
Ladies Who Lunch
Here Cums The Rain Again
Dinner For Two
Blow by Blow
Commando
Cum As You Are?
Aftershock!
Caught in the Act
The Great Compromise
The Tipping Point
Cross Country
In Stereo
Get Smart
Blind Faith
The Dirty Mexican
A Few Good Men
Peter’s End
Getting Stuffed
The Good Boy
Cracking Up
The Agreement
Fuck Road
A New Resolve
Pre-cumming
Send My Regrets
On A Jet Plane
For The Love of God
Livin’ On A Prayer
It’s My Party
Move On
The Stripper
High-Ho The Glamorous Life
The Flesh Is Willing, But…
The Oldest Profession