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It's Hating People that I Never Understood

Alston called me after Don had died and gave me funeral information. Don came from a Catholic family. He had a straight, married brother and other relatives. We all assembled at a fancy South County funeral home, where an old Irish Catholic priest gave a scorching sermon about how Don had led an evil life, but on his deathbed confessed his sins and renounced his lifestyle. That old bastard! The only thing that kept me from shouting out my outrage was my realization that Alston and the family had already suffered enough. So I bit my tongue. Literally.

Someone will for sure ask what lesson is to be learned from all of this. Someone is sure to suggest that promiscuity leads to heartbreak, or even more severely, that homosexual behavior leads to suffering.

That’s not the lesson that I have drawn from my life. I apologize for none of it. I just think that God sent me people to love, and when I could I gave them all the love that I could in the only ways I knew how to give it. I don’t think that loving people needs an explanation. It’s hating people that I never understood.

I’m glad I lived in a time of sexual freedom, and I’m glad that I lived in times when sexual freedom has been sorely tested. I wouldn’t change a minute of the life I have told you about. Gay and proud, say it out loud.

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