14. Barn Raising
938 words. Approximately 4 minutes, 41 seconds. Audio version here.
All of the men I’ve loved before, this is my love letter to you.
Phillip, you were my first real love. When I was a scared kid, afraid of what coming out as gay would mean for my life in a backwoods rural high school filled with hateful rednecks, you were my safe harbor. You made me feel validated and you made me feel loved. I realize now that feeling came from myself; you were just a hazy mirror and I thought that if I gave you love, it would automatically reflect. How foolish of me. It almost pains me to say that you were my first love, that you were my first experience with relationships, the blueprint that I fell back to when I was creating new relationships. I helped you, more than you helped me, though you never admitted it (and flat-out denied it once).
Hayden, you were my first real love. When I bounced around from man to man, looking for mirrors and finding just glass, you appeared as though a gift from the stars. You ticked my boxes: insanely intelligent, raucously hilarious, with eyes I could get lost in and an ass I could bounce a quarter off of. When you came into my life, I thought I had finally found something real. And maybe I did, and maybe I’m the one that fucked everything up. But you had so much potential; I wanted nothing more than to bring it out of you and elevate you up at any expense, including my own mental well-being. This is love, I would tell myself. These are relationships.
Ryan, you were my first real love. At least, I thought you were for a while. You were new in town, struggling. I could mold you. You weren’t perfect, but there was something inside you. I could help you, bring it out. I checked my blueprint and you fit my plan well. I hadn’t planned on falling for your roommate, and spending our entire relationship pining after him, pretending his lips were on mine when we kissed. He was more helpless, I think. You had your life more together; you didn’t need me as much as he needed me. But I could never get him to see it.
Gary, you were my first real love. I remember being in a hotel room in Virginia, meeting you in person for the first time, and getting down on one knee to propose to you. You were overjoyed, and I should have known then that this would be just another in a series of failed constructions. My blueprint felt so right, and you needed so much help. I helped you out of a bad living and working situation, and moved you right into another one. I’m so sorry. When I felt that I couldn’t help you anymore, I didn’t know what to do. My blueprint was failing me once again.
Jim, you were my first real love. You fit into my blueprint so perfectly; you were an amazingly pathetic character and you needed real help. In a different hotel room in Virginia, I can still see myself pressing the “Ignore” button on my phone when Gary was calling. His moment was gone. New construction was beginning. But you were the one that destroyed my blueprint. I built a beautiful house around us, constantly sacrificing bits of myself to keep you safe, and you tore it down. You made me feel worthless and shallow. I remember our last big fight, then driving from Fort Lauderdale to Orlando at three o’clock in the morning, silently building my walls and sculpting my persona, protecting myself against a new and unknown world.
Tyler, you are not my first real love. I have told myself, in years past, that all of my loves that came before were not real loves. Because it wasn’t happily ever after, it wasn’t real and never happened. My focus was always on the new and the now. But I realize now, all of my loves were real. All of these men left an indelible stamp on my being, and without them, I wouldn’t be the person I am today. I have pushed a brick out of my wall, chipped away at my persona, to better see you.
I must admit, I was initially drawn to you because you fit my blueprint. You seemed like someone that needed help, and I was excited to have that confirmation that things would be okay again. And for a while, I lost myself in that, because you did need help. My endless self-sacrifice and martyr complex helped put you where you are today, I truly believe that. But now I am editing my blueprint. When I found you, I believed you were my perfect mirror; the clearest image I had ever seen. There was no fog, no haze. There was no glass to block me from you, just a smooth, perfectly reflective surface.
Recently, I saw you break through. You shattered my mirror and tore down the barrier between us. I know that my blueprint includes you now-that we must help each other become better people, and that love demands reciprocation, not sacrifice.
But I would not be here if not for all of the people before you, clandestinely shaping and molding me while I believed that I was in control. So get together boys! Raise a barn and call it Sean; a man to be made in your image. Community effort has made me the man that I am today.
So through all of the hurt, all of the pain, all of the confusion, all of the heartbreak… to every man I’ve ever loved, thank you.