I sent this first:
As I'm sure you've noticed, I'm not really great at this whole
communication thing. It's also because I don't like confrontation, though
I'm not sure what confrontation there would be. Maybe it's just that I feel
like everytime I interact with you it's confrontation, which is probably
mostly in my own head and also a part of my guilt for never talking to you.
It's just always been really hard talking to you, especially since the
divorce. I know you think it's mom's fault and that she's turned me against
you and stuff, but to be honest, that's a load of crap. I have plenty of my
own reasons for feeling awkward around you. Last spring I think was an
especially troublesome conversation with you. It was a time I'd finally
gathered up the courage to spend time with you again and you launched on an
hour long “not a guilt trip.” I'm sure you didn't intend it that way, but
sitting there and squirming, not being able to say anything was really hard.
It just got really bad after that. That's why I didn't see you until
graduation and then until Christmas. It was good seeing you at Christmas,
but after this time it seems that a lot of the connection is dead. Again,
I'm not blaming you, I'm just telling you the way I feel.
A lot of this stems from the fact that you no longer have any idea who I am.
Last summer you went into Citgo to make copies and the girl working was my
best friend. She figured out who you were from the name, but you had no idea
who she was. I'm not exactly forthcoming with information on my life, but
would you really be interested?
And now, the big part. When I was younger there was once a dinner discussion
about what would happen if I was gay. The general consensus seemed to be
that I'd be disowned. I meekly argued that I wasn't gay, because I didn't
know at the time. This was probably 10 years ago. Well, now that I'm 18, I
know who I am. Yep, you have a gay son. Maybe you know, maybe you don't,
whatever. I'm sorry if this means you really can't love me anymore, but I
suppose I'll have to deal with that. I've been dealing with emotional
detachment from you my entire life. I've always been closer to mom, and
you've been closer to Brandi. I know that I wasn't exactly wanted before I
was born. I know there's been a lot of heartbreak and a lot of love.
I couldn't sit on this anymore. I'm tired of feeling sick when I open your
e-mails. You are my father, and for that, I thank you.
Sincerely… your son
I sent my sister the e-mail my dad wrote me. She sent this:
It sounds like he is trying or is sincere, but it still made me sick to my
stomach to read it. Have we been conditioned, or what is it? I hope you are
well…..and he sure as hell isn't the biggest liberal I have ever met.
What crap. Anyway, that's that.
P.S. Let me give you the “AIDS speech”. AIDS is a gay man's disease sent
from God. Hope that brightens your day.
At least some of my family members are cool. Augh, what a shitty day.