Express what's within

Wonderland

I have to ask, was it worth it? Was it worth going out of your way to hurt me if in the end I gave you nothing? No reaction, no response, nothing. You eventually left me alone because I had some friends who were older who threatened to beat you up. No, I didn’t ask them to do it. They were just good friends of mine who took the initiative. But in your case, who had your back? Your two friends you did drugs with? I’m sure they were virtuous, dependable people just like you.

When I think about the people I’ve encountered – friends, enemies, lovers, acquaintances – I can assign them some kind of meaning, some purpose as to why I crossed paths with them at all. Even the ones who later turned out to be enemies, there was a valuable lesson I eventually unearthed beneath that pain. But with you, there was no lesson. I didn’t learn anything about my own strength and about my own self that I didn’t already know. With you there was nothing to be gained and nothing to be lost. Perhaps the most hurtful and insulting thing of all is just that – you spent your time and energy trying to put me down, trying to make yourself important to me in some way, only for me to assign you zero importance. You were just a blip, a glitch in the system that lasted not even a millisecond and then I moved on. I imagine it must hurt, realizing you’re not important, and if you were a real human being you’d be capable of feeling it.

You are dead to me. Similarly, I acknowledge the version of myself that existed when you were present is no longer there either. The old me has passed away. The circumstance in which we met, the years spent in those classrooms and in those hallways, and the people we used to be are no longer. But the difference is that old me died and was reborn into someone new and someone stronger, whereas old you died and that was all. There is a sense of relief knowing that the past is done and will never be replicated, and that I will never meet you again in the same way, and even if I do the odds will be in my favor. Why? Because I am a real person who is living and you’re someone who was already on his way to death even when we were just kids. While I had yet begun my ascent, you were already on your decline. So I can only imagine that since then, you’ve plunged even deeper to become a shriveled plant buried beneath tons of dirt, struggling to breathe.

Were there more people you bullied after me or was I the last one? I’d like to think you learned your lesson and that I was the last. In using my silence to kill your power, I’d like to believe I played my part in putting an end to this cycle of pain, shame, and trauma, especially among gay people who've had to deal with people like you. If this is the case, I can attribute some kind of noble meaning to the suffering I endured at your hands. But if you didn’t learn your lesson with me, all I can do is pray that the other people you’ve hurt were eventually able to heal on their own and have removed you from their lives. I hope they’re thriving and have left you to wonder the same – was what you did to them worth anything?

I hope you’ve learned that the price of harming others is isolation and loneliness, and that it’s better to be the one hurting than the one hurting people. I hope you’ve learned that you wasted precious years of your life hating me for no good reason and those years you will never get back, meanwhile my life has gotten richer and richer. But my gut tells me you’re too weak and that change, for you, if not just difficult, is impossible. And now it’s my turn to tell you that the world would be better off if you weren’t in it. So if you’re still alive out there and haven’t changed, consider doing the thing you told me to do when we were younger, as it would be the only good thing you could do for others in the entirety of your empty, hate-filled existence.

“Kill yourself,” you said to me. We were just kids.

When I picture you now as an adult, I don’t see a person. I see an entity of sadness, an empty shell. That probably sounds cruel but it’s the truth. When people hurt us we can kind of make sense of what purpose the pain has served, later in life. But in your case, I still to this day have no idea why you chose to bully me and I can't even say there's anything I learned from it. It’s like you woke up one day and just decided you hated me and needed to let me know.

Was your home life too difficult? Did your dad not love your mom enough and you internalized this and it was too much for you to handle so you had to take it out on me? I will never know. These are questions that appear in my mind sometimes but it stops there. I couldn’t say this before but I can say now that I’m too happy with my life to look you up on social media and scrutinize your present to try to make sense of how and why you treated me the way you did. I guess I’m thinking about you as an adult because I realize now how wrong you were about me. I realize my being gay was never the issue. You just hated yourself and were insecure about your own masculinity. And I just happened to be the most visibly gay person closest in proximity to you. I don’t take it personally. It could’ve been any other guy and you still would’ve bullied him. People like you lack the strength to carry your own hurt and that’s why you need to survive by passing it onto others, like a parasite that sucks the blood out of those who are living. To me, you never truly lived. You were just alive, just “there.” But there was nothing more to you beyond that.

Maybe deep down you knew. You knew you had nothing of value to offer me. And since you were lacking the affection you desired from your family, you craved to be noticed by me and you were willing to do anything for it, including insulting me. When I put it in these terms, I don’t see you as the powerful, threatening bully that I used to. Instead I see you as a lonely, weak, and frightful boy who feels like nobody important to him ever loved him. The most I can feel is pity. Pity that many people’s lives are just like yours. Pity because it’s a life where only self-doubt, closedmindedness, fear, and loneliness grow. Pity because you chose to stay in that life instead of break free from it. You were directly responsible for how you handled the situation you were in and you chose to be cruel. I was getting harassed at school and never passed my pain onto others, never made anyone feel ashamed for being who they naturally were. You, on the other hand, needed to hurt others so you could feel better about yourself. Never mind the degrees and material success; my character was always better than yours. This was true when we were kids and it's still true to this day.

You probably thought the reason I never stood up to you was because I was afraid. But in fact I was disgusted. Whenever you’d throw homophobic slurs at me, I’d think to myself, “I will never be him. I will never be whatever that is.” Because what you respond to, you make bigger. I never responded to you because I wanted to make you feel as small as possible, smaller than you already felt. Each insult was your attempt to hold onto what was left of your diminishing self-esteem, and each time I gave you nothing I watched you shrivel slowly until you were completely lifeless. It was satisfying to watch. In a sense, I “killed” you, in the most nonchalant, smart, and bloodless way. It helped that you had already entered my life not being fully alive which made my job a lot easier. And your life, whatever was left of it, meant nothing to me. You dug yourself and I buried you. The honor is mine.

It’s been almost a decade since you told me to kill myself. I find it ironic that it was you who said that, but fast forward to the present and I don’t even know if you’re dead or alive. I knew you were getting into drugs at the start of high school, you weren’t an academic, you were never involved in any clubs or sports, you never dated anyone, and you stuck with the same two friends all throughout. I’d glance at your table in the cafeteria and could already sense your misery from afar. Nothing good ever came from you which meant nothing good can be attracted to you either. You attract all the things I’m not and all the things I actively avoid. If you were a maze, you’d be one that only has dead ends. But I was smart enough not to enter.

In abandoned basements

And behind closed curtains

We exchange kisses

Nobody sees

Deep in the forest

Behind thick trees

Our bodies yearn for each other

Aching, weak

But smoke rose

From the fire started

A slow burn led to

Uncontrollable passion

I lit the match

You fanned the flames

Our desires revealed

I can't control the future, other people's actions, and you. Tomorrow isn't promised and any day could be the last of a person's life. The most significant events in our lives happen unexpectedly, and most of what we plan for seldom goes according to the exact plan.

All that's guaranteed is the present moment and myself.

I knew my love for you was real when I started feeling more love towards myself ever since we met.

You don't need to do anything beyond simply being here. Your presence alone is enough to heal me. Your existence alone is enough to restore my faith in love and relationships.

Every day we're together, I like the person I'm becoming more and more. With each goodnight we exchange, I look into the eyes of the person I grew to know and love. And I wonder how I was able to spend the first twenty-something years of my life without ever knowing you. But because I hadn't known you yet, that meant someone else did. And other people did, romantically and platonically.

There is comfort in knowing that a person like you exists in this world, because you leave people's lives better than how you found them. I think about all the people whose lives you've enriched by simply being there and I feel blessed and humbled that you're now passing it onto me.

I feel so understood, appreciated, accepted, and loved. I just want to let you know that I feel all of it, and thank you for the honesty and forgiveness between us, for the second chances, for always trying with me, and for continuing to pursue your goals while being in a relationship with me, because what matters to you also matters to me.

When I think of you, I imagine a garden. There's a pond, some butterflies, abundant sunlight, and the garden's completely untouched. It's pure, natural, and pristine, just like how I see our relationship and how I feel about everything whenever I'm with you.

Up in the north

Beyond the ice and seas

There lies a garden

Spotless, pristine

The only warm haven

Beneath the harsh tundra

The savior ponders

Over worldly dilemmas

In front of him, two fish

Swimming in harmony

Preserving the balance

For all of humanity

A man appears

And captures one fish

The sky bleeds red

On the backs of its laborers

This city is made great

Enemies have attacked

None able to penetrate

In the hands of its leaders

This city is made perfect

Absent of war, crime

Dissent, and mischief

The last stronghold left

In the kingdom, it stands

Ba Sing Se, a refuge for every

Child, woman, and man

Dragons and drills

Have tried to invade

To spot the real enemy, look no further than

Gentle waves wash

The sands of time

As four friends sit

Around the fire

A beloved princess

And a banished prince

Return to this island

Without their parents

A governor's daughter

And an elite performer

On vacation with these siblings

And not their own

One by one they unload

Emotions rise like tidal waves

Fire burns, too much hurt

Under the sunny sky

We flew kites and fruit pies

Monk Gyatso and I

Had them land on the other monks' heads

I was a child just like the rest

In the morning, got dressed

In my robe and after lessons

Played with bison until the sun set

My life at the temple

Was a simple one, I wish

I could return for a moment's bliss

To escape

The demands

Of the world I must face

I must save the same people

Who wiped mine away

All I have are memories

Of a life that used to exist

Of the person I used to be

And of the people who used to love me

I slept through my own genocide

And now my people

Have to sleep

"In The End I Won: A Conversation With Darwin G"

December 16-17, 2023

The past weekend was absolutely wonderful. I stayed at a hotel with my partner in downtown Toronto, at the Hyatt Regency to be specific. We walked around the neighbouring streets, visited the Studio Ghibli pop-up shop but didn't buy anything, and had dinner at the hotel's restaurant. I ordered Caesar salad and butter chicken and he ordered the seafood linguine. Afterwards, we went upstairs and continued drinking the rest of the champagne that we had begun to drink prior to venturing out of the hotel. Villa Sandi prosecco is light, easy, fresh, and sparkling - perfect for staying in.

We showered together, did each other's skincare, and took turns massaging each other with the massage gun with ambient music playing in the background. We watched White Chicks since it was a movie we're both fond of and laughed at all the hysterical scenes.

"I'm so freakin' pissed," we quoted in unison. A classic line always.

While my partner stayed in bed and scrolled on his phone to fall asleep, I took the elevator up a floor to microwave my leftover butter chicken. I went back to the room and ate it while taking in the view of the surrounding condominiums and apartments. Our view wasn't a spectacular one of the city but rather a more realistic one of what most people who live in Toronto would have. Still, it was fun to people-watch.

After digesting, I joined him in bed but I couldn't fall asleep right away. Maybe I still needed to digest the food or perhaps I was filled with contentment at being with my partner for the weekend, so much so that I had trouble calming my mind. He took notice and asked if I was okay because I was being "move-y." I told him I was having difficulty falling asleep so I snuggled up next to him. I laid my head beside his shoulder and, with my hand on his chest, synced my breathing with his and focused on our heartbeats' steady rhythm. After what felt like a few minutes, I moved to my side of the bed and managed to fall asleep.

If I can recall, I heard the sound of ambulance sirens three different times throughout the night. I even remember saying out loud, "Damn, these people don't know when to quit with the emergencies." A___ probably chuckled in response, but I was too sleepy to tell.

The next morning, we brushed our teeth together and went back to bed to kiss and..... do more. We packed our things back in our luggage and the order I had placed for room service breakfast arrived a few minutes after ten thirty AM. Here was the spread: poutine with poached eggs, scrambled tofu, classic breakfast with sausage and toast, fresh fruit, a pot of coffee, and croissants to be taken home. We enjoyed our food while watching a sit-com. By the end of it, we were full.

We put our stuff in my car before checking out of the hotel and walking to a nearby bag shop, since A___ was looking for a new bag. We walked out with him having a better idea of what kind of bag he wanted to buy. He said he'll spend some time considering before making a purchase. We went back to the hotel and drove to the escape room, where his two friends were, S___ and D___. One of them I had already met before, and the other one I was meeting today. If I were to tell you we got along, that would be an understatement. We bonded. Conversations flowed smoothly, spontaneously, and naturally. One of the two friends, the one who I met for the first time that day, had flown in from Newfoundland to visit some old friends before returning home for the holidays. It meant a lot that despite her short stay in Toronto she still made a point to meet me, while most of my friends live in the GTA and haven't made time to meet A___ yet (if any of you are reading this I'm totally kidding lmao).

The theme of the escape room was outer space. The four of us were civilians from Earth who were abducted by aliens for scientific research regarding some disease that seemed to affect all other species except the human race. The aliens kidnapped us to experiment on our bodies to determine why we were immune and everyone else wasn't. We had to unlock the different rooms using puzzle pieces that, if you put them against designated parts on the wall, would light up that area and would unlock the next room. At one point, we had to crawl through a tiny opening in the ground which split off into two paths. The first path led to the next room, and the other path led to a rather terrifying dummy of a dead alien with a severed arm. It was quite the jumpscare.

The last room was the control room of the spaceship and we had to select the correct option which would lead us back to Earth. While the three of my companions retraced their steps and went back to a previous room to confirm a clue, I stayed in the control room with Wayne, one of the employees who had given us a rundown of the game before we played it. He was playing the devil on my shoulder, trying to talk me into leaving my companions behind and going back to Earth on my own. But I didn't even have the key so I couldn't do that, not that I wanted to anyway. Even though it was just a game, I felt like it would be unfair to leave them behind given that we had worked on getting to the end together. Plus I would look really stupid if I chose to abandon them and I selected the wrong answer in the control room, a choice which would send me to the aliens' planet instead of Earth. I waited for my companions to return and we locked in our answer. Good news - we made it back to Earth safe and sound.

Wayne gave us a thirty percent discount because we were able to complete the three objectives of the mission: collect a sample of alien DNA, return to Earth, and figure out why the aliens had abducted us. Since I'd be driving later, I ordered Vietnamese iced coffee (which wasn't on the menu) and everyone else had something alcoholic. We made a toast to A___ meeting a major financial goal of his. We talked about movies, namely Titanic and The Notebook. We talked about places we'd traveled - Philippines, Singapore, Vietnam, Europe, the U.S, and so forth. We left shortly after to go to a board game cafe, but first stopped by a Korean grocery store for some custard dessert whose name I forget. It was A___'s treat to us. Since it was raining, we stood eating outside the store, the roof overhead protecting us from the rain.

At the board game cafe, we ordered water and nothing else. We played a card game I hadn't played before, followed by Scrabble. The card game made us lively, Scrabble turned us serious. What's ironic is A___ always says he's bad with words and I'm good with words, but when we tallied up the total he ended up scoring the highest and I scored the lowest. I told him he's better with words than he thinks he is. By the time we left, the sky had darkened.

A walk down the street led us to a Thai restaurant. The walls were exposed red brick, wooden tables and chairs stood at the front and the bar was nestled at the back. The vibe was homey, with lighthearted feel-good songs in some foreign language, probably Thai as well, playing on the sound system. We had a bite of one another's dishes, which I think was a solid sign of trust and bonding. We talked about family and relationship disagreements, but the atmosphere remained lively and positive. Vulnerability was shown and it was a safe space for honesty. I treated my love to dinner, in addition to the dinner from the night before and the breakfast earlier in the morning. It was my way of saying "congratulations" and "thank you" to him for taking a huge step for himself and for our relationship, a step that will remain private.

We left the restaurant and headed back to my car so A___could retrieve his luggage and we could part ways. He got his luggage and his Starbucks drink which surprisingly still had some of the ice left intact after over seven hours sitting there. I hugged his friends (who after today were my friends too) goodbye. I kissed my love on the lips. He told me to drive home safely. I told him I will, and to have fun with his friends at their sleepover that night.

I drove on the highway going home. At this point, I've driven to, from, and within Toronto many times that the traffic no longer intimidated me. I checked my rearview mirror before I made a lane switch and saw two circles glinting supported by a deformed figure. It had antennas coming out of its head. I closed and opened my eyes and checked again - no one was there. The only thing glinting was the lights of the car behind me, far away. I was tired. The rest of the drive home was normal but it got me thinking about something so hard to determine and make sense of - reality.

What makes something real? Is it real if you can touch it, experience it through your senses, or have a way to confirm that it's interacting with you too? Does it have to be tangible? I don't think so. Emotions aren't tangible but they're real to us when we feel them, and they manifest in the physical through bodily expression. Is it enough, then, to think or feel something into existence? If I thought or felt an alien was in my backseat, would that have been enough to answer yes? I don't think so because there is still such a thing as objective reality despite how subjective our perceptions and experiences may be to us. Objectively, there was no alien there. That possibility would be very low. But that slight moment when I did question my own reality was enough to conjure up panic, curiosity, shock, and fear - even though the thing itself was only perceived and didn't actually take place. The point I'm trying to make here is that things don't have to be real in order for us to be moved by and react to them. Our beliefs, whether accurate or misinformed, are enough to propel us to react, take action, interact with strangers, accept challenges, date someone, pursue a goal, move out, quit a job, travel somewhere, and so on.

So I tell myself this. In my relationship, right now everything is good. Some parts could use work which is normal for any couple, but overall it is healthy and reciprocal. But no matter how difficult it ever becomes, the external stuff doesn't matter as much as how I internally relate to it. Whatever is going on matters less than the beliefs I have towards what is happening. Meaning in order to stay happy, I need to believe in solutions, compromise, trust, loyalty, respect, and forgiveness. It is this belief where all of my actions will stem from and be guided by. I think that the alien in my car, whether real or not, wanted to have me realize this.

What we believe, we create. And what we create as a result of our beliefs will continue to exist, and by its existence, be reinforced. So I choose to believe in my relationship, in the better version of myself now that I'm in it, and in the person I'm with, that we may share more weekends like this, for now and for the future that awaits us.

On a random Saturday morning, I woke up on the highest floor of an apartment building. My partner was laying next to me. Taking me in his arms, I felt the warmth of his body pressed against mine. The bedroom window which led to the balcony presented us with a view of the city that spread into the distance. Roads leading to condominiums, office spaces, skyscrapers, and the CN Tower far away.

We remained in each other's embrace, exchanging kisses and warm words as the sunlight poured abundantly into the room. To be happily in love with a man in the comfort of our own privacy, to receive this love without any shame or guilt, is something I thought would never be possible for me.

THE PAST

It was over a decade ago when I was a student, crying in a hotel room that I was sharing with some other guys in my grade. Word had gotten out about my sexual orientation and for three long years, I had watched my core group of friends dwindle, one person at a time. Which is why when I joined the out-of-province trip to Quebec, I found myself feeling alone in the hotel room despite sharing it with three guys, and wandering the streets of Old Montreal by myself while the rest of them went off exploring together. Every local shop, sidewalk, statue, and church we visited, I was alone. Physically, my classmates were there. Emotionally, nobody was.

I understood my lonesome expedition to this culturally different province to be my punishment for not being heterosexual, and for letting that fact get out. In my little kid brain, this trip to Quebec taught me that the price of being honest about myself was loneliness and exclusion. I learned that if I wanted people to stay, I needed to be more discreet. I needed to downplay any feminine attributes, or better, eliminate them entirely. I needed to make friends with guys to prove I was still one of them, but not get too close as to arouse suspicion that there was a possibility for romantic attraction. I needed to change myself in order to feel like a successfully integrated boy-becoming-man. I wanted respect, which I would later discover would come at the cost of my authentic self. And so began my future of pretending to be someone I wasn't.

I never talked about that Quebec trip until now. I felt like I had no right to feel upset especially considering that at that age, it was a privilege and a luxury because not every student could afford to go. I spent most nights weeping than I did laughing. I was counting down the remaining days because I wanted it to end. Even though in our hotel room there were two king-sized beds, the three guys I was rooming with all slept on the other one because they wanted to avoid me. I never told my parents this.

There's a guilt that comes with privilege, it's the guilt of feeling like your pain isn't valid because someone always has it worse. Yes, I was bullied. But it was all words and no one ever put their hands on me. Yes, I felt alone. But I was alone while traveling, compared to some students who felt alone and were stuck where they were. This is what I told myself. I should just deal with it.

Suffice it to say that as a kid, I didn't allow myself the space to be upset, to grieve loss, to feel anything. And because I didn't allow myself to feel pain, I couldn't feel joy either. The joy would always be accompanied with guilt. Self-hatred and guilt, or happiness and guilt. Always guilty and never fully living. Even on the days when it wasn't so bad, deep down I felt I didn't deserve to have these moments of peace.

So when it was time to graduate from elementary school and I took home all the academic awards, I couldn't feel proud of myself. What right did I have to feel good when I'd lost most of my friends upon their discovering that I was not straight? Because I was gay, it caused my best friend to distance himself from me. Because I was gay, my friend who was dating my best friend started to become suspicious that I would develop feelings for him. It was my fault they left, I told myself. There was something wrong with me that they couldn't stand to be around. I was the problem.

At graduation, I remember the first award I won was religion. The teacher who stood next to me on stage whispered not to return to my seat just yet. I was confused but then it made sense when they announced my name for the next award. And for the next one. And for the next four. The award goes to Darwin and to Darwin and to Darwin and to Darwin. The room filled with cheers and applause. And each time they called my name, it was humiliating.

I remember putting my head down. People might have thought I was doing it out of humility, but I was actually doing it out of shame because deep down I knew the price I paid for this success was the loss of myself and the loss of acceptance from my peers. When the ceremony concluded, I didn't receive a single "congratulations" from anyone in my graduating class. What hurt most was the people who I considered myself to be closest with didn't congratulate me either. Even though we'd fallen out by then, part of me was hoping they would find it in themselves to be happy for me. I think if I'd had at least one person in my corner, it wouldn't have been as painful.

It was from this experience that I associated my success with people's resentment. You would think this would've discouraged me from further excelling in my education. Quite the opposite - since people wanted nothing to do with me anyway because of my sexual orientation, whether or not I was academically gifted had no effect on their decision to avoid me. I poured my energy into my schoolwork going into high school and all throughout university, which did serve me well. But I felt alone for most of it.

At the school trip, I was an outcast and I had no awards. At graduation, I had awards but was still an outcast. I received the same treatment when I had nothing and when I had something to be proud of. And yet I couldn't be proud of myself. I learned that as long as I'm gay, no one will find it in themselves to be happy for me. If this was my reality then I didn't want to wake up to it. In hindsight, that period of my life was so lonely I wanted nothing more than to sleep forever. To be stuck dreaming good things and stop living in the real world sounded blissful. I was a child then so I wasn't familiar with the word "suicidal," but it's what I felt.

THE PRESENT

Fast forward eleven years later, and life couldn't be any more different. My university diploma hangs gloriously on the wall of my living room, next to my brother's. I wake up to the sound of my parents chatting in the dining room. They ask me what my plans are for the weekend; I tell them I'm driving a couple hours away to visit my partner. They tell me to stay safe and to text me when I get there.

And when I do, we have the whole apartment to ourselves. This time, no one is avoiding sharing the same bed with me. The morning after, we sleep in and drive to the city for brunch. Hands intertwined over the aroma of eggs and coffee, I tell him this: "I never thought this would be possible for me." He tells me he feels the same.

Every local shop, statue, square, and park, we're together. And when I look at my life, I realize I laugh more than I cry these days. I count my loved ones instead of my lost ones. While it's true that having him in my life makes it more fulfilling, it doesn't mean I was an incomplete person prior to the relationship. I'd made the decision to like myself and to enjoy my own company even when I was single. I'd go downtown by myself, visit museums, eat at restaurants, and go on late night drives to various places. The difference between wandering alone as a kid in Quebec and wandering alone as a single adult, is that as a kid I was alone and hated who I was. But as a single adult, I was alone and learned to accept and to appreciate myself. Which means that now that I'm in a relationship, I accept, appreciate, and love myself, and I have someone to accept, appreciate, and love in return. A relationship adds to a person's existence; it does not complete it.

And because I've reached this milestone of self-acceptance, I can revisit that day in my childhood when I won those awards and truly claim that I deserved it, because I did.

I have graduated. Not only from the subject material taught to me in school, but from the experiences I endured as a student there. I've graduated from homophobia, self-hatred, loneliness, exclusion, and bullying. Adults will tell you that school is a place of learning, and if that's the case, I'll tell you that life outside of school is a place of unlearning. Unlearning trauma and unhealthy, destructive ways of thinking. Unlearning the defense mechanisms we had to adopt as children in order to deal with the teachers who didn't enforce respect and the kids who felt entitled to take advantage of their leniency. Unlearning the idea that in order to consider myself as a worthy human being, I needed to be accepted by everyone. If I even have to ask for acceptance, then I'm asking the wrong people.

It's ironic that the place where I experienced such pain is only a five-minute walk away from my childhood home. Whenever I'd drive past, I'd steal a glance searching for the little kid version of myself playing during recess, running around freely, ignorant to the fact that his social world would crumble in a few years. I felt an anticipating doom for that child. Life as he knew it would be no longer. Now whenever I drive by, I don't bother glancing because there's nothing more to look at. I've taken what I needed from that time of my life that was elementary school, acknowledged that it's contributed greatly to how I've developed, retained what was useful and discarded what wasn't, and in doing so, have moved on. There's no need to look back.

That school is like a time capsule of my former world and of the person I used to be. In terms of physical proximity, it's near. But in terms of time, it's as distant as a foreign country. And since I've changed internally by unlearning self-destructive mindsets and habits, my external world has changed too. Although I've lived in the same place for most of my life, it doesn't feel the same because I've changed for the better.

Occasionally, I'll have flashbacks of the bullying that took place on the school's playground. It'll be at random times when I'm making coffee, going to the grocery store, or commuting to work. I'll think back to that tearful night in Quebec as I slept by myself on that large bed and how I wandered alone on the cobblestoned streets during the day. But because it happened a long time ago and because I've changed drastically since, it feels like it happened to a different person entirely. And when I remember that it happened to my younger self, I feel that it was only a bad dream which, while I was in it felt eternal, in reality didn't last long. The longest dream of my life came to an end. I eventually woke up and saw that real life wasn't so bad.

REAL LIFE

"Good morning," my partner says softly. Sunlight enters the window. My eyes adjust to the contours of his face. He asks how I slept.

"I slept well and even dreamed a little," I say.

"Really?"

"Yeah." I run my fingers through his hair, savoring the moment, remembering life wasn't always like this. It took a lot of time, work, and patience. As he's in front of me, I feel joy and nothing else. No guilt, no shame. This is bliss - being in the presence of love, and being in the absence of everything that is not. The things I thought were impossible became possible for me.

"I hope it was a good dream," he says, giving me a kiss.

"It was alright." In his eyes, I see the reflection of the person I grew to love. It's only because I grew to love him that I can love my partner. "But you know what? I'd rather be awake."

THE END

Hey Darwin. It's me, Jason from elementary school. I'm not sure if you remember me. I read your poem in the magazine. Congrats on getting published. You're probably wondering why I'm reaching out after so many years. I guess reading your work made me proud to call you my friend even though it's been a while since we last spoke. That, and I also feel regret for not having done anything to help when you were being bullied. I was the new kid and you were the one who took me around school and showed me where our classroom was. I remember struggling in French and you turned your desk so that it would face mine and you helped me with grammar exercises. Now that I think about it, you were one of the nicest people I met at that school and I wish I could've stood up for you because you didn't deserve how people were treating you. Anyway, sorry for rambling and for possibly disturbing you. Take care, and if it's not too much to ask maybe we can meet up sometime to catch up?

My first reaction when I read this message in my DM's was immediate skepticism. 2021 was about to end and Jason had probably made a new year's resolution that he'd make amends with people from his past. Instead of being grateful for his apology, he made me feel like a charity case.

I read it a few times over and decided to be cordial:

Hi, Jason. Yeah I remember you. It happened a long time ago and I'm a stronger person now because of it. Thanks for reading my poem.

I didn't reply to his invitation for a meet up, which now that I think about it I should've given him an explicit no. It would've saved the man from being rejected. Straight men in particular have difficulty processing the reality that not everybody wants them.

Do you want to get lunch anytime soon? How about this weekend? I still live in the area. What about you?

Persistent. I'll give him that. But over the years I've learned that being straightforward saves time and energy. Which is why I replied with, No, it's okay. I forgive you. And we don't have to meet up.

His typing bubble appeared but before he could send his message, I closed the DM and restricted his account. Removing him as a follower was too harsh. He wasn't being hostile so that wouldn't have been deserved. I just wanted to establish a boundary so restricting him was the reasonable choice. I closed the DM and went on about my day. I headed back to the office, had dinner downtown with a friend who I'd met at a previous job, commuted home and watched the snowflakes land on the window and melt upon contact. I showered, did my skincare, ate dinner, said goodnight to my boyfriend, and went to sleep. And from that day on I wouldn't hear from Jason until five months later.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

A couple minutes' walk away from my office was the coffee shop where I would stumble upon Jason again, this time in person. I had placed my order to the barista, swiped my credit card, and stood by the waiting counter for my iced espresso with oat milk. Instead of scrolling on my phone, I took in my surroundings: the elegant wood panels across the ceiling, the antique chairs and circular mahogany tables that graced the seating area by the window, outside which presented a sunny view of bankers and businesspeople on their way to work. We were in the middle of spring.

My therapist advised me that grounding myself in the present moment would improve my mental well-being. I started doing sessions two months ago as I was now in a position in life where I could afford to go to therapy - it was covered by my workplace. Focused on the present, I wasn't concerned with the worries of the past or the anxieties of the future. I simply was, I simply am.

I grabbed my drink from the counter and was about to take a sip when I noticed a familiar looking man sitting on one of the chairs by the window. He was dressed casually in gray shorts, a Lakers tee, and those Jordans that were trendy a decade ago. Seeing Jason, it's like I was transported to the past when all the guys in my grade dressed like that and behaved the same. And by the same, I mean homophobic. Either an active bully or a passive bystander. Before I could go about my way, he looked up from his phone and saw me. He waved and motioned for me to join him. Did he know I was here the whole time and was just waiting to grab my attention?

I hesitated but curiosity got the better of me. I had stopped replying to his messages five months ago so I took this as fate's way of bringing us together. I wonder how that conversation would've played out if I'd allowed it to continue, and today I was about to find the answer to that. I sat in front of him, noticing he didn't look that different from how I remembered.

"I never thought I'd run into you here," he said.

"My office is just around the corner. I'm on lunch right now."

His ears perked up at the mention that I worked in the financial district. Technically it's not in the financial district, it's one street over and my job has nothing to do with finance. But Jason didn't have to know that. I decided to let the man be in awe of me and my career.

"What do you do now?" he asked.

"Government," I replied drily, then took a sip of my beverage. "What about you?"

"Do you still speak French?" he asked. I don't know if he was intentionally avoiding my question or if he was just more interested in getting to know about my life than talking about his own. The irony. When we were younger, it felt like Jason and his friends overlooked me, and here I am today being interviewed. I took delight in the reversal of fortune.

"I do," I said. "In fact, it's because I'm bilingual that I got my job. And what about you?"

"I work at P______ at the mall, recently got promoted to a supervisor position." He shrugged as he said this, like he wasn't sure if it was worth mentioning. He told me he went to college for a year before dropping out due to the expensive tuition, worked part-time jobs to save up money then re-entered school only to drop out again, this time because he was sure it wasn't what he wanted. "I don't think school's for me, you know."

"Yeah. You never seemed like the academic type," I said. There was a lull in the conversation. Jason looked downward, his eyes drifting to the side. I wondered what was bothering him. I wondered if he took it personally that I didn't want to get lunch with him the first time he had asked.

As if reading my mind, he said, "I'm surprised you actually sat down with me. Last time we talked, it seemed like you didn't want to meet up. Darwin, I owe you an apology. I -"

"Wait," I said, setting down my drink. "You already apologized. There's no need to say it in person."

"But I want to. You see, what I didn't say in my message was that the reason I even thought to hit you up in the first place was because I actually joined the church group you used to be a part of."

This surprised me. Jason in a church group? I didn't remember him ever being particularly religious. Sometimes I'd see his family attending church but they weren't consistent. "You did?" I said, finding it hard to believe.

"Well, I never truly joined. I never served in it. Cedric invited me to an event sometime after you'd already left the group."

Cedric was our mutual friend from high school who joined youth group the same time I did. He was friends with Jason prior to. Cedric and I were cool with each other, but hadn't caught up much since I'd left. He told me he was happy for me for having moved on. I remembered that fondly.

"Long story short," Jason continued, "I got to meet some of your old friends and through them I got a better understanding of what you've been through and why you left."

"What I've been through," I repeated. "What do you mean exactly?" I was curious to know how these old friends relayed my story to Jason. Religious people will be passive-aggressive when someone drifts away from the faith. They'll say they'll pray for them when in reality they'll harbor resentment towards the person for leaving. I've resented people too, the only difference is that I'm more honest about it compared to a lot of religious people I used to know.

"They told me you didn't like how controlling everything was. That you felt like you couldn't be yourself. You had to hide important parts of who you were just to belong," Jason said.

I nodded in agreement. "So why apologize to me? You weren't there when I was in the church. What do you have to be sorry for?"

"Yeah, I wasn't actively against you. But I still contributed to it." He took a moment to think. "I'm saying sorry because now I understand that homophobia has been present in your life long after elementary school. You dealt with it in high school, and your church group was supposed to be a safe place for you to get a break from it all. But it still persisted there. I'm sorry because I think I made the problem worse by not sticking up for you when were kids. I think if I had, I would've been able to help you see that you have friends who will stand up for you, that you're someone worth standing up for. You're worth having as a friend and I regret not telling you sooner." He sighed. "Darwin, I'm just sorry that I did nothing."

I considered his apology, now in the flesh. It's easy to delete a message from your phone, but it's harder to turn away a human being in front of you who is sincerely admitting where they went wrong. Part of me felt justified in my pain. In a way, I wanted to hold on to it because it was that pain of having experienced homophobia that had influenced significant parts of my personality, my outspokenness, my quick wit, my identity overall. Letting go of that pain and choosing to dissociate from it would mean having to let go of the very thing that has contributed immeasurably to the person I've become. But maybe I didn't need to erase the pain, I just needed to change the way I related to it. After all, it's still a part of me. It always will be.

I let my guard down. "Thanks for that, Jason. I forgive you. As I said in the message, it's all in the past."

He smiled. "I was hoping you'd say that because I was actually curious to see if you wanted to come back. The church needs you right now."

He was going in circles. Didn't we just agree to move on from the church? "What?" was all I could say, stupefied.

Jason explained to me what had happened in the past two years since I left. "Cedric got promoted to a higher position, which means your group is now being run by the new people."

I didn't like that he referred to it as being "my" group.

"Before he was promoted," continued Jason, "there wasn't adequate training given to the new presidents so now they're kind of scrambling. The annual camp is in two months and they haven't even met up to plan because they don't know what to do. The leaders before never gave them proper instructions. Liza went to Vancouver for med school, Paulus got a new job to pay off his loans, and Gerald wants to help but his dad's in the hospital so he's busy taking care of him while his mom's away in the Philippines."

"Stop," I said. "You said you never joined the group so how do you know all this?"

"Sorry, I should've specified. I didn't join at the time that Cedric first invited me. But honestly, now I'm considering it given how desperate the situation is. Even if the presidents start planning now for the camp, I doubt they'll have many people signing up. And they all told me it wasn't like this when you were part of it."

"So whose idea was it to reach out to me? Yours? You could've asked anyone else, someone who's actually still involved."

"It wasn't just my idea," Jason said. "Pretty much everyone agrees you should come back. And yes, everyone. Even the people who used to judge you."

I wasn't surprised. Everyone suddenly misses you once they're in need of something.

"I know you're busy with your life and you look like you're doing really well. But please Darwin, it's bad. Most of the people from your generation have left. If this continues, I don't know if there will be a church group to speak of by the end of this year. It's already dwindling in numbers."

Part of me felt sad to hear of the current state of the place I once loved, but a larger part of me acknowledged that that part of my life had ended years ago. I have since moved on, but Jason hadn't.

"You said it yourself," I replied. "I am doing well. Actually, this is the best my life has been ever since leaving. I have my career, friends who accept me, I came out to my family after leaving the church and they accepted me too. You apologized for not having been there for me and now it's my turn to do the same. I'm sorry, Jason. I can't help you and I can't help them. Church is like the closet for me and I'm not putting myself back there ever again, and I don't care who's asking."

His expression hardened - a mix of frustration, understanding, defeat, and relief. Frustration because I didn't give him the answer he wanted, understanding because he knew where I was coming from, defeat because he's running out of options for the youth group. And relief. Relief because, as his childhood friend, he's seeing that I've indeed moved on. I've transcended the self-hatred that used to bind me.

He put his head down. "I don't know what to do."

You can always leave, I wanted to tell him but I didn't have the heart to. I saw my younger self in Jason, the version of myself who was eager and who always tried his best not knowing what it would amount to. Leaving was what made sense for me but it wouldn't necessarily apply to Jason. I decided to take the opposite approach and asked, "Do you want to stay?"

"Only if I know I can make a difference."

"You never really know until after the fact," I said, speaking from experience. "I didn't know leaving was the right choice for me until some time had passed and I saw that I was able to be fully myself without judgment. I'm not going to tell you what you should do because what worked for me may not work for you. But also keep in mind that it's normal for any group to experience high and low periods. Right now, it's a low period. It'll pick up again, don't feel too discouraged."

He seemed to be okay with this, even cracking a bit of a smile. My alarm rang, telling me my break was over. I finished the rest of my coffee. "I have to go now. It was nice seeing you."

"Take care, Darwin." We bumped fists and I left the coffee shop. Immediately my phone began to ring. Cedric's name appeared.

"Hello?" I answered.

"Are you fucking kidding me? What's this bullshit about you not coming back?"

I turned to glance at Jason through the window. Setting his phone down, he shot me a disappointed look. He had informed Cedric. The man, and his apology, were fake from the start.

Cedric continued to yell. "Are you there? Talk to me!"

"You and Jason planned this," I said calmly. "You sent him here to try and convince me. I told you I cut ties with the church a long time ago."

"You couldn't even do this one favor for me?" Cedric blurted out. "I was your friend. I joined church with you. You know what, Darwin? I feel sorry for you now because you have zero direction in life. You turned away from us for a fucking salaried position and your nightlife and your university friends. I guess that city life has finally gotten to your head, hasn't it? Well guess what, we don't need you either! You should be flattered I even considered asking for your help. Just know I tried all of the higher-ups first but none of them wanted to have anything to do with a dying chapter so you were my last resort."

What's gotten into him? This was not the Cedric I knew. Didn't he tell me he was happy I was able to move on - or was that a lie? "Is that really how you think of me, someone at the bottom of your priority list?" I said.

"Oh, cut the shit!" he yelled. "We're at the bottom of each other's priority list. I don't remember the last time you reached out ever since you left for university. You left me alone when I needed you to stay, leaving me with a bunch of general members and no real executive team to manage them. Face it, you've always been selfish, putting yourself first before us!"

"Cedric, even if I'd stayed it wouldn't have made a difference. I'm just one person, and one person who was tired of being held back by people who didn't accept me. Besides, you never reached out either. How was I supposed to know you were struggling?"

He scoffed. "Struggling? What, you think I'm having a hard time without you? You're not that special. Get over yourself. The only reason I was ever friends with you was because I saw you had nobody at school. So when I found out you were going to the same youth camp I took it upon myself to talk to you. When your Lola died and your parents were in the Philippines, I kept you company. I stayed by your side even when Kristina and Jeremy made you fucking president of the high school club and that position was supposed to be mine! I was there for you even after finding out you were gay." He spat out the last word, like an insult. "You're misguided, thinking you're above us just because you left!"

I was done being cordial. The man was about to have it. "Cedric. Take your homophobia, your higher-up friends, and your desperation, and go fuck yourself."

He was too stunned to retort.

I continued, letting everything out. "I'm misguided? You're the misguided one here. You're the one calling me on a random Friday afternoon to complain about how I'm no longer religious. Don't you have better things to do? If you took that same energy and put it into your love life, you'd have a girlfriend by now. And for the record, yes - I am enjoying my career, my nightlife, barhopping and hanging out with my university friends and my boyfriend." I put emphasis on the last word.

"They're not judgmental pricks like you and Jason. I've put you guys first time and time again, the mere fact I've hidden my true self just to be accepted by you guys and the rest of the church proves that. You're just bitter because you haven't done anything meaningful with your life beyond youth group. News flash, Cedric: that's not my fault, that's not God's fault. It's yours. You're the one to blame for your own misery because you decided to stay the same. You spend more time at church than you do finding a job. If I was broke like you, I'd be mad too."

"Don't bring that up!" he shouted, voice cracking.

"And unlike you, I'm no longer religious which means there's no doctrine holding me back. I can freely speak my mind, which is why I can tell you to go to Hell. Yes, you heard that right. You, on the other hand, have a reputation to uphold so I would think twice about insulting me any further before I record this conversation and expose you for being the hypocrite you are."

"Is that a threat?"

I stood my ground. "Yes, it is. You should know I've changed. You can't walk all over me anymore. Not you, not Jason, not anybody left from that crumbling church. After this phone call, I'm blocking you everywhere. Harass me again and I will call the police. Get lost."

"Don't-"

I hung up. My heart was racing. Jason was still sitting in the coffee shop. He looked at me, confused as to what had just happened. Holding his gaze, I gave him the finger, watched his face go red with embarrassment, and walked away. I felt awesome.

After work, I went out with my boyfriend to enjoy the downtown nightlife. We found ourselves at a rooftop terrace bar enjoying our surroundings of the endless lights and skyscrapers, laughing over the drama that had occurred earlier in the day. We raised our glasses and made a toast to moving on.