You'll remember in Perhaps, posted a week ago, that I introduced that letter from my high school days with the story of the friend it was written to.  It was the story of my having admitted my homosexuality to my dearest friend, who happened to be quite religious, and the repercussions of that avowal.

After reaching a point in my life where I realized my sexuality wasn't the manifestation of some demonic possession or some as yet undiagnosed acute mental illness, I was struggling to accept it myself when I decided to also share my self-discovery with a few of the people in my life at that time who I trusted and felt close to.

Again as I explained in that post, my revelation to this particular friend did not go quite as I had imagined.  In fact, it was as if I had admitted to murdering his entire family.  I might as well have had the plague.

So, after trying to speak with him in person and via phone, all to no avail, I wrote Perhaps in an attempt to break through the sudden ice that had formed between us.  The cold of our relationship wore on me heavily as I had considered him one of my closest friends.

The response to that letter was just as cold as our friendship had become.  He refused to talk to me about it or what had caused the friction between us.  He wouldn't take my calls and would ignore me if I tried to speak to him in person.  I even tried to approach it as a religious debate in the hopes of engaging him that way (yes, somewhat manipulative, but I wanted my friend back and was willing to try almost anything).

After three weeks with me attempting to open a dialogue with him and him having no trouble acting like I didn't exist, I decided to write a final letter expressing my feelings and leaving the door open for some future interaction between us.

Now 16 years later, the only interaction we have is my seeing these letters or flipping through my high school yearbooks.  I now know that our friendship was not meant to last and, in the scheme of things, would never have been a real friendship.  He could not accept me as who I was and I could not change to be something he could accept.

But none of those realizations make it easier.

What an experience our relationship has been.  So much more than a learning experience, it has been a growing experience, an understanding experience, a life experience.

You have helped me to realize the potential in others, but, more importantly, the potential in myself.

I have grown along with those around me.

You have taught me to see life through eyes other than my own.  You have allowed me to push to the limits only to find that the limits are those that I set for myself.

I thank you for the trust, assistance and encouragement.  Your apparent devotion to those you would call friend is inspiring.

You have pushed me to new heights and given me the sky.  I can only say, "I love you," for any other attempt at gratitude would fall short of the true emotions I feel.

I have seen your intelligence and your wit and your seemingly endless experience with life — disproportionate to your age, we always said.  These are only some of the things I will miss.

I have experienced the joy of knowing you.  I can only hope others are given an opportunity to experience that as well.

I wish only the best for you in the future.

And I hope your future and the relationships that fill it are not so easily torn asunder based on the differences between people.

We were more than friends once.  We were practically brothers.  So imagine my disappointment and anguish at exercising the honesty between us only to find my honesty would be the tool you use to cast aside our friendship.

And cast it aside you did, for it now lies behind us like some discarded rag, unlikely to ever be touched by either of us again.

So I say good-bye to you now.  Yes, at the same time I am offering a way back should you ever choose to walk that path, but good-bye is the taste left in my mouth, it's the message ringing in my ears, it's the aroma left on my clothes.

Our journey together we had at best.  Let my hope share your journey — that we celebrate our differences, that we enjoy what makes us individuals, that we embrace the diversity of our lineage and existence, but that we do not allow our differences to drive us apart.

For if you cannot do such things, your life will be empty.

Know that mine will not.

[circa 1989]