What can you learn from the loves that led to now?
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#1– I didn’t love you. I was young and deeply in the closet, and I confused attraction for love. But none of that mattered; when our superiors learned of my attraction to you, we were told we had to put our friendship on hiatus until I had overcome my homosexual attractions.
Though we could never be more than close friends, you gave me a model for what to look for in a romantic relationship, just by your being kind and thoughtful and caring.
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Honestly, it devastated me, not because I thought I was in love with you, but because I was now left all alone with the dark secret of my sexuality. It all seems so unfair to me now, though at the time I assumed the authorities had to be in the right. But young people confuse attraction for love; they have romantic follies before they settle down. This is what the learning process should look like. But I wasn’t allowed to learn, which probably set me up for difficulties that were to come.
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#2– I never told you that I loved you. I mean, I might have said it once or twice, but it was obvious in the context that I meant it in the best-friends way. But I never told you that I loved you romantically, as well.
You’re a smart guy, though, and you must have figured it out eventually. Yet you never let that fact get in the way of our friendship, a friendship I cherish to this day, even if our busy lives keep us from communicating regularly. Though we could never be more than close friends, you gave me a model for what to look for in a romantic relationship, just by your being kind and thoughtful and caring. Thank you.
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#3–I didn’t love you. I was young and technically in the closet, though I’d let so many folks at our church know of the “struggle” I was working to overcome that you were already aware of my not-so-secret secret. I was so desperate for someone who could relate to where I was coming from. And when you said, “I wonder what it would be like to be gay,” it gave me a glimmer of hope that I wasn’t alone in the world. So I sought you out.
You gave me so many memories I cherish, and you taught me that there are many different shapes a relationship can take.
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Your response was to inform me that you had only been talking theoretically and that in fact you didn’t have any of those unholy temptations. You distanced yourself for a while so that you wouldn’t tempt me and I could restore myself spiritually. It never occurred to you that, while we were both in our twenties, I was acting very much like a confused and awkward teenager, because I had not been allowed the chance for normal social development that you and our other heterosexual peers had been allowed. You could only see me as broken, defective, and that I would not be acceptable in the eyes of the church until I turned into a heterosexual. Guess what: That doesn’t happen; those who claim it does are either lying or bisexual-in-denial. But heaven forbid that the truth impede on your theology. I’m happy to have you and your ilk out of my life, and I hope you developed some compassion somewhere along the way.
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#4–I thought I loved you but I didn’t know what love was. I was still so much a child, just sticking my toe out of the closet. I still believed that love conquered all, even a two-thousand-mile distance. Our e-mails and instant-messages and four-hour phone calls brought such joy into my dark life. You taught me a lot about what it meant to be a gay man. When ultimately you told me that building a relationship without being able to meet was untenable, I thought I would never recover. But after I healed, we developed one of the deepest and most meaningful friendships I could imagine. And damn it, one way or another, we will meet someday.
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#5–You loved me and I didn’t quite love you enough. I was twenty-nine when I came out, thirty when I started dating, and you were among the first I dated. Nothing really could have prepared me for the dating life. And nothing could have prepared me for dating three men at the same time, straight out of the gate. And I see I mishandled it. I couldn’t see that I was one of your first dates ever, as well. I couldn’t see how madly you had fallen in love with me. You were angry for a long time when I chose another of the three over you, and I completely understand. I’m grateful that we ultimately restored our friendship. You’ve come so far in your life, and I’m happy for you.
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#6– I loved you and you didn’t quite love me enough. I don’t know if you realize just how much I thought of you when I chose you over two other men. You were kind and gentle, and had built a stable, quiet life for yourself, one I wanted to share with you. I was okay with seeing you only once every two or three weeks because you were a busy man. We made our time together count. I didn’t realize that we saw each other so little precisely because you wanted to keep your distance. After seven months, I told you that it looked like we might spend the rest of our lives together, and you replied that you didn’t believe in long-term relationships.
I am loving myself, for the first time in my life. That lesson was your greatest act of your love.
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And for a long time I beat myself up over our relationship, for not being smart enough to see the signs, for ignoring my own needs and desires in a relationship in order to maintain the relationship. But I see now that it was absurd to expect happily-ever-after fresh out of the closet. I needed practice with dating and with relationships before I could consider anything more permanent. And, in spite of the infrequency of our time together, we had a wonderful short-term relationship. You gave me so many memories I cherish, and you taught me that there are many different shapes a relationship can take. Thank you.
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#7– We loved each other, but love wasn’t enough. OkCupid had told us we were a 99% match, which I didn’t even think existed. And we met and got along, and was so happy to be with my 99%. Except we weren’t 99%. I’ve had a long time to think about it. It strikes me you lacked some self-awareness with regard to your deepest desires, and that you dwelt more in the theory of what you might want than in the reality of what you actually wanted. I don’t fault you.
Identity is so much bigger and broader than we were taught, and neither of us could yet access the paradigm that might describe you best. My identity and desires were completely incompatible with yours, and no matter how much we cared about each other, we were doomed to fail. That’s okay. You look so happy in your current relationship, and I’m happy for you.
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#8– We love each other still, I think, but it’s a different kind of love. You taught me just how big and complex love can be, and I enjoyed being a part of your big and complex life. Just the other day I reminisced about a date we went on; we held each other by the river, and it was perhaps the most romantic moment of my life. But you said you couldn’t do the job of loving me all by yourself, that I needed to love myself as well. Only now do I understand that truth. I am loving myself, for the first time in my life. That lesson was your greatest act of your love. Thank you.
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#9– We loved each other, and might have built a life together, but love wasn’t enough. After 300 OkCupid failures—most never responded, a few wanted to instant-message but refused to meet, a handful met me only once, and only one was deemed okay by Cupid, though we turned out less than okay—I sent you a message. It was a risk to expand my scope to the suburbs, but I had literally run out of men in the city. We chatted wonderfully for a whole month before we agreed to meet.
I’ve learned that it’s okay to be alone; the key is to love yourself.
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I was enchanted on the very first date; you were so cute and smart and charming. But you lived a forty-five-minute drive away, and I didn’t drive, and you lived outside the range of public transit. For a while, we thought it was all worth pursuing. But with the distance and your job and your classes, you decided I deserved more time than you could give me. I was willing to settle for less, but you weren’t. You were right. I no longer settle for less. Thank you.
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#10– We might have ended up loving each other but were the victims of awful timing. Still, what a week we had together. I was heartbroken at week’s end, when you revealed to me the extent of your problems and that you would be gone awhile to work them out. I understood, even as you told me that you believed the spontaneous nature of our romance was probably the result of your issues. But I must admit, it was hard on me when you announced your engagement, and harder on me when I went to the wedding, though I did my damnedest not show it. Even so, you have overcome so much, and you are so happy in your marriage now, that I can’t help but be happy for you.
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#11– I thought there was a chance I might love you, but you really threw me for a loop. We met once a week for a month and a half. That was more than any boyfriend had ever invested in me. So you can imagine how disorienting it was when you said you hadn’t thought we’d been dating at all, and you had no interest in doing so. I let go graciously enough, though I remain chagrined that you dropped our friendship after that. I think you are a good guy and I wish we were still friends.
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#12– We never called it love. We never called it anything. It was without label, and that was okay. We’re unconventional, and are comfortable with complex arrangements. But we stumbled when it came to how we define the word “theoretical.” If I theorize, I consider possible plans that can be actualized. But what you call theory, I call fantasy, and I don’t really invest much time or energy in fantasy, not anymore. Some say my practicality is unromantic and thus unappealing. But, oddly enough, it was precisely your practicality that drew me so. That practicality made it easier for us to call things off before they even began. But we will always have our friendship with its layer of whatever-it-is, and I am grateful for that.
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#13– We haven’t met yet. I’m not even sure you exist. It’s okay if you don’t exist. I’ve learned that it’s okay to be alone; the key is to love yourself. But if perchance you do exist, please know that I come to you having learned much about love, and that all those lessons learned will help me love you better.
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