You Don't Need Me No More

You don’t need me no more. That’s what I was so afraid to face this past few weeks. I wanted to think that this is just another storm which I have to endure until the sun shines again. But there’s the rub. It’s something that I have to endure—alone. While you are out gallivanting with your friends, I just sit here praying you’ll be safe, preparing your bed, keeping your house, waiting for you to come home. I basked in the thought that whatever sleazy activities you get yourself into, you’ll come home to me in one piece, that you’ll always be mine, and that I will be your one and only baby. I was in denial.

You don’t need me anymore. Not now. Not ever. What you need are your friends. I have held back all thoughts that they are nothing but bad influences to you. I thought I had no right to judge their character because I do not know them. And they are your friends. I value your judgment more than anything. No, I will not compare myself with them. I do not feel insecure with them. Not anymore. But this is what I have to say. What I know from what you told me is that you get to be yourself with them more than you are with me. Your friends are proving to be better company to that side of you that you want to explore.

You don’t need me anymore. What you need are the men in your life. The men that you meet in the gym, on the Net, in the FX, or in whatever place you go cruising, these are the people whom you want to spend your time with. I again assume that you choose fleeting moments of bliss over a lifetime of friendship bonded by love and respect. However bad I feel about your choice, I know that you are intelligent and strong enough to face its consequences.

You don’t need me anymore. What you need is your “gay life”. All I can give you are tender hugs and kisses in the movie house, a warm embrace in public, ears to listen to all your stories however insignificant they are to me, my stories that are equally insignificant to you, and probably my whole lifetime if you let me. Now I understand that what you really need are wild sex in your friend’s pad with strangers, the company of friends who talk about nothing but boys and sex, whispers of “Ang sarap mo.” from a guy you barely know, and a lifetime of anonymous polygamous sex with other guys, lots of them one at a time or at the same time.

You don’t need me anymore. I say this without bitterness. I am not angry because of the choices you made. I am not even worried. I trust and love you better now. But as I promised, I will only be here until you don’t need me anymore. And I think this is the time. You don’t have to tell me to go.