An Unexpected Homecoming

An Unexpected Homecoming -

            Darkness, confusion, I had reached a breaking point. Even though my break away from Nicole and Sean had seemed effortless and easy and with the last word that I so dramatically exited with I was tossed into a situation where I for the first time was in complete control of  my life and who I was, not who I was expected to be and who I was supposed to be for someone else and to be honest it terrified me. I had been raised to be the perfect son who never spoke back who did as he was told, when he was told. The forever obedient son, who transitioned to the perfect student, the loyal friend and the trail blazer of the family who was the first of his entire family to attend college. On paper I was the picture of everything a young man in his 20's was supposed to be, but who was Manuel? Manuel was a young man gasping, clawing and desperate for air. Manuel couldn't breathe Manuel was slowly becoming unraveled Manuel was trying to break free. I might have left Nicole and Sean that night but the baggage of who I was, who I really was clung to me like a scarf on a windy day, a scarf that tightened around my neck with every step silencing my true self.

            During this time I had become very comfortable with the middle the grey area between not fully out and yet not completely straight. I used humor a lot to give people a glimpse of who I was. I found comfort in the confusion of an onlooker to my life which in that time from feeling alone with nobody to confide in I enjoyed the company. Humor became a warm blanket of protection to me. If  I ever felt attacked or made to feel less than, I would spin it into a joke to make myself feel comfortable. A cleaver technique that I still use to this day. My reason behind it was that if I ever felt as though I was not in control that by telling a joke I was all of a sudden the leader and could guide the conversation to where I felt conformable the old adage they are not laughing at you if they are laughing with you. Humor was not always my savior, I learned at a young age that sex or the idea of sex could be used as a strong driving force of  manipulation men and women could be guided to do your bidding with something as simple as an adjustment. The gentle glide of your hand around the collar of a man's shirt looking into his eyes with a small smile was enough to give a glimpse of intent or an unspoken fantasy where for a moment he had a chance with you and just like that he was yours. For woman it was a bit harder I spent hours listening to women in college talk about their boyfriends and how they never noticed simple things so I too began to compliment women on the change of their hairstyle, color, weight loss, makeup, outfits and the occasional "you look beautiful today" with a simple acknowledgement I was in, because at the end of the day women and men wanted what I was striving for...to be seen.  

            In my desperation to be seen I had started to become undone. I was striving for someone ANYONE to see me for who I was and more important for them to give me approval that it was ok to be gay. I began to drink in excess to the point where one night in a drunken misunderstanding took the kind words of a friend a little too far. In the desperation to be seen I crossed a boundary with a "straight" friend and leaned in for an unwelcomed kiss. Humiliated and feeling embarrassed I stumbled to bed where I wanted to die. The next day to my surprise the friend had spun the act of a simple kiss into something even more horrible to my roommates. These girls I had known my entire life had now began to look at me with disgust and betrayal. I was quickly voted off the Island without even given the opportunity to explain my side. This to me was probably the biggest devastation to my young adult life. I felt completely alone and even more confused. I was asked to move out that same night. As I packed my things I could feel my tears roll down my face and wanted to scream I'M GAY!! I might have made a mistake by trying to kiss him and for that I am sorry but in that moment I felt as though that the act of a drunken misunderstanding of a kiss might have not been the problem that the problem actually might have been the realization that their long time friend might be gay and that it was something that neither of them were ready to deal with. I was alone again in a time where I felt I could not be accepted for who I was. Many years later one of those roommates and I would reconcile and I love her as much as I ever have. To describe her is as difficult as to describe a sunset, the moon, the stars, or the wind she is as unique and as majestic as each and a beauty that is undeniably the best the world has ever known. Her beauty is magnified by her equally as beautiful soul. and I am proud to still be able to call her friend, an ally, and my Hawaiian luva. My other roommate I never heard from again and to be honest I think it was for the best. I think I was most hurt by her dismissal I had known her since the 5th grade. I believe out of everyone she would have known my heart. Since then I have come to terms with the idea that sometimes some people have to exit your life so that new people can come and help you to continue to grow. This is what I feel she was, she was a stepping stool for me to achieve a better more confident self. How can we truly grow and strive for better if who we surround ourselves with depend on us being mediocre. I have reached out to her many times to try and rekindle some type of friendship and have always been ignored which is fine. I wish her the best in life as to which I continue to live my life free to be myself.

            As I left the comfort of San Diego my mom questioned what my fall out with my friends was about but I couldn't bring myself to let her in not just yet. I was still ashamed and confused by the whole situation. We made our 4 hour trip back to the town that for the longest time was my prison. As I sat in that car I began to get anxiety. How I dreaded the feel of my hometown. The dry, hot air as it burned across my face, the constant mirage that seemed to be a permanent fixture in the distance of an idea, an illusion of what your life could be outside the city limits of Blythe. How I loathed this city. To me my return was just another suppression of who I was meant to be. Many times I wanted to throw myself from the moving car. My mom leaned over and said, "As much as you hate this town its part of who you are. You will forever be linked to this place. It will and forever be your home." As I sat up in the car as we drove into town,  I looked around at the desolate city it was as if time had stood still, it was the town time had forgotten, nothing had changed. Maybe my mom was right I was forever linked to this town like a chain clutched around my ankle. I remember a quote once that said, "Home is where the heart is." I looked over at my mom and smiled, "Well" I thought to myself there is my heart so I guess this is where my home is. It seemed like she was the only one happy to see me home again. As we stopped at the stop light at the intersection of the only main road in our home town I saw a woman a who seemed to be very frail, sunburn, hair a mess and clothes seemed tattered. As she crossed in front of us a little girl poked her head out of the blanket that was covering the stroller she was pushing and she waved at us. My mom grabbed my hand and as she held it said, "Take all the time you need to get back on your feet here, but leave as soon as you can." I looked back at the woman as she got the other side of the street and thought, Home might be where the heart is but I guess it's also true when they say you can never go home again. I knew I would forever be chained to this town but for the next year I would try my hardest to break thru this chain or cut off my foot trying.