I must say Thank you for always reading these letters, I see you are clearing your post box, it is a good sign that you want to keep listening to me.
So what do I want to have you know in this one? I really don’t know, a lot of things have happened these past weeks, such that telling them might sound too fictional.
Although I technically shouldn’t be at a loss as to what to say to you, but right now I am in a long, white bus, riding past oyigbo or orile.
I am wondering where to begin if I’ll be telling you anything. I am wondering how I might tell it. If you would understand the personal imagery or the coded metaphors. I am wondering what happens if you understand.
I fall in love too.
No I don’t just crave and have sex, and breathe and live sex, nor feel by and be sex.
I am not the basic image that comes to your mind of two penises fumbling for contraption or a backside doing what you feel a backside shouldn’t be doing.
I lie awake each night and imagine what it would be like to speak with someone into the deep pockets of the night, to remember his smile and feel the gentle silliness of public affection without him being there.
But you know,
I have never really had that. This I understand sounds pathetic and weepy, but I guess I don’t want to fight in this letter, we’ll both try to be understanding, we’ll both try to be human.
Each day, I look in the mirror and feel the uncertainty of happiness, it is never in my palms, it is never like something I have ever deserved from loving who I want to, for appreciating myself.
Like I told you, I haven’t got anything concrete to tell you in this letter, I am on a white sheet, in a baking room thinking of ways to find solace in my own bones.
Today is the beginning of pride month (you can google what it means, I have no intention of explaining). And while it has opened some doors for me, it left those that want to remain shut, shut. But I don’t really mind.
Lately, I met people who actually see me. I know you know what I mean. When you swag up to your boys to talk about girls, or listen to songs that talk only about your kind of love, I am sure it is so normal you can take it for granted. That, feels golden to me, yes, I bet you always thought we had not the effrontery to ask for proper and abundant representation.
It is pride month, and I am going to try and stay happy for the ones who see me, and for myself too.
Just so you know, not all gays are gay.
All thanks to you.