deepestdarkestsickestpartsofu

[deepestdarkestsickestpartsofu]

[deepestdarkestsickestpartsofu]

You're the kind of person I wanna be with when I want to be alone.

— Eleanor & Park

[deepestdarkestsickestpartsofu]

Introduction

We met in spring of 2017. He changed my life forever, in a way that I will never be able to explain. What I would want you to understand before reading this, is how much love has taken charge of my feelings and impulses. 

I loved him, I love him. 

Nothing he did will ever change that.

At this point I bet you may be wondering who I am. Right... I guess I should introduce myself. My name is Nadir, a 25 year old man that is attracted to other men, but that’s not the most significant part in the story. I grew up in a quiet conservative town in Michigan, with a small population of less than 5,000 people. My mother is pretty old schooled and forced me to stay in school until I graduated. That meant no ‘girlfriends’, no sleepovers, no working. I always had the desire to help her monetarily by getting a job and at least pay the house bills. However she would constantly say to me to just focus on my studies and that would be what would help us in the long run.

My parents are originally from Israel. My mother grew up as Catholic, which was not the usual back then and my father grew up Jewish. They became less religious when they decided to move to the United States, which is where they had my siblings and I. They both lived here as immigrants and I didn’t understand what that meant when I was a child, I just thought we were like any other family living in the US. My father unfortunately passed away from a heart attack when I was 8 years old and it affected me in ways you couldn’t possibly imagine. During his wake, I didn’t cry. It was all so surreal and I felt like he would wake up randomly and claim that everything was a joke. He had a great sense of humor and always managed to make people smile, however his death wasn’t a joke. Once it was time to bury him, I cried as hard as I could since I knew I wouldn’t see him ever again. After that, my mother worked as hard as she could to give my siblings and I what we needed. She could barely afford to pay for the mortgage on the house until my older brothers started working and helping her out with as much as they could. My mother worked two jobs daily to make sure we had food on our table, clothes and a good education. 

It would hurt me to see her stress about providing for us, so eventually I managed to get a scholarship at San Francisco State University. Being the youngest of 4 children gave me a bit of an advantage to enjoy ‘the beauty of freedom’ as we know it now, and not have to struggle about being gay in the 70′s, not that it’s any different now. I mean there are hate crimes all over, shootings that keep getting more common by the minute and discrimination which is still pretty big now. That is one of the reasons why I decided not to come out to my mother, nor anyone in town for that matter. I was already struggling with self-acceptance and I didn’t want to be a burden to my mother. During my senior year of High School I managed to convince my mother to let me work to save up for essential stuff. I began working at a pharmacy and little by little saved up enough money to leave town and follow my dreams in a career I wanted. I wasn’t certain of what my major would be, however it needed to be in the art field. Whether it would be acting, directing, drawing or video editing. I decided to go with the flow and see what would appeal my interest. I wanted to be able to afford a place in ‘The City’, so working at that little pharmacy helped me save up & I also had a job secured so I would be able to help my mother with her expenses from afar. 

It took me a few months but right before spring classes started, I booked the first plane to San Francisco without looking back. My siblings showed up with my mother to the airport. Elijah, the oldest, was a bit of a role model growing up. He got married at 22, had 2 children and joined the police force. Amir, the second to oldest, was always a jokester which he definitely got from my father,  and had a bit of a ‘bad boy’ complex, which is quite the opposite of Elijah. He never got married, which my mother never agreed with, however he did have 3 kids, all with different women. Last but not least, my sister Hadassah, she was only 3 years older than me and I guess you could say we were the closest. Both of us would take care of my mom as much as possible and help her around the house as much as it was possible. She decided to stay in a community college to be closer to my mother and to help her financially as much as she possibly could. I hugged everyone goodbye, but when I got to my mother I couldn’t hold it in much longer. Tears started pouring down my face as I hugged her, but managed to remind her that this wasn’t a goodbye, but a ‘see you later’. I wish I could’ve come out to her, but I was afraid it would devastate her and we might lose the relationship we had built. As cliche as it sounds, she is my best friend, the person I trust the most in this world. I was considering staying as I hugged her. She pulled away and put our foreheads together. 

“You’ll be fine... You’ve got this! And remember einayim sheli, you’re stronger than you think! I’ll be supporting you from afar! Nothing you could do would ever disappoint me”.

“I love you mom. Don’t worry, I’ll send money your way and I’ll be back during the holidays!”

“You better, my dear! Now go, don’t want you to miss your flight”, she said as she hugged me once again.

Her words gave me enough courage to pick up my stuff and board the plane. I turned back once more before heading to the ramp and saw my siblings & her waving at me. Hadassah was hugging my mother and even though she was trying to stay as strong as possible, I saw tears rolling down her face. She noticed that I saw them and immediately wiped them off with a smile. I always admired how strong of a woman she is. She truly is a role model and someone I look up to as to how to live my life. However, I’ve never been as strong so I couldn’t hold back and started crying as I boarded the plane. 

The flight felt eternal and having anxiety didn’t help at all. I quit medication a few months before leaving since I didn’t think I would need it… Boy, was I wrong. I managed to calm myself down by working on some sketches I’ve been doing on my drawing paper pad. Next thing I knew, I was arriving in San Francisco, California; Population: 883,305, well... I guess now it’s 883,306 residents. I wasn’t necessarily going into San Francisco completely helpless, I was moving in with my best friend. I met Marcia in elementary school. Her father Sebastiao works for the government, and that’s as much as I know about him. That and the fact that he had to move to San Francisco due to a “really good job opportunity”.  Her father is originally from Brazil & his wife, Mayra is Mexican-American. Marcia grew up and learned all three languages, English, Spanish & Portuguese so she was able to fit in easier in “The Bay Area” when they left our little town. We would spend hours on the phone after she moved and she would tell me about San Francisco and how she thought I’d love it. She was honestly afraid to be one of those kids whose parents have to move regularly because of their jobs, but lucky for her, she didn’t have to do that. She set up a high bar for me arriving in San Fran and when I did... Well, let’s just say she didn’t disappoint. Her dad bought her an apartment and she was willing to share it with me at no cost, but I already had plans of helping her out with utilities & give her some extra cash to thank her for sharing her apartment with me. She shared her apartment with two puppies, Chuy & Elena, two small pomeranians whom she considered her children since she wasn’t planning on having any kids. When I told her I had gotten a scholarship to SF State, she immediately suggested I should move in with her. I wasn’t too sure of that idea, but it honestly was the best option I had so far.

I finally get my luggage and sit in the lobby to wait for her. I look around and see a lot of people meeting up with their loved one, whether it is their lover, or family. “You just left your family back there. You won’t even make it here nor achieve anything you had your mind set to. This is truly a bad idea. Why are you even doing here? You’re an idiot for leaving! All for some stupid experiment you want to try? Bullshit!”. I close my eyes and take another deep breath. I then feel my phone vibrate with the following text message:

“I see you!”

I looked up and saw her smile. She hadn’t grown much, stood about 5′6, black, curly shoulder-length hair, light skinned, with dorky glasses. People always claimed she was a weirdo, but who am I to judge? I was a bit taller than her, stood about 6′1, a bit of scruff on my face, brown semi clean-cut hair. I was always the weird kid at school, so we managed to click from the very beginning. She was the first person to talk to me in elementary school, and that meant the world to me. I was always a bit of an introvert, however she helped me come out of my shell little by little and when she left, I fell back into it. 

“Marcia! Babe! I’m so happy to see you!”

I ran to her and hugged her. It felt like yesterday that I had said goodbye to her at the airport. 

“Honeeeeey! Ugh, I’m soooo glad to see you! You smell soooo good! Don’t tell me you’re still into buying or should I say, collecting colognes?”

“Guilty!”

“Well then, you just might like what I have for you at home! Let me help you with your bags! I can’t wait for you to FINALLY meet Chuy & Elena! They’re going to LOVE you! My tia is still pretty mad that I named Elena after her, but she should take it as a compliment! It just means I love her! I mean, dogs are your most loyal companions... Not that she was ever loyal to my uncle, but still! I’m telling you, my little Elena is NOTHING like her!” 

I looked at her in disbelief. She still had that smile and a gleam in her eye. She had always had that hopeful gleam in her eye... Something I had lost a long time ago. 

I hated it.

“I’ll kill if I have to, but I’ll regain that hope again, just wait”

[deepestdarkestsickestpartsofu]

Edgar Allan Poe, from a letter to John Allan wr. c. January 1831, featured in “Letters,”