I will explain to you why days like this matter to me in the form of a story from my life.
I grew up in a very very very small town. Rural. Religious. Where everyone knew your business, your parents and has watched you grow up.
I met R in high school. R was one of those guys that drove me insane with rage from day one. He was a religious zealot, rude, and a bit of a chauvinist. He would spew off at the mouth with reasons for women to stay at home in the kitchen and why gays were evil. We were like fire and gasoline for arguments. I was feminist queer girl and I had a temper to back it up.
Mind you, R was also effeminate, loved Elton John, and a whole slew of gay stereotypes.
We had one of the weirdest friendships. Mainly formed from being outcasts and a shared off class in our high school schedules. One day R frustrated me so much I said “R, I know what your problem is, you’re so f*cking far in the closet, you can’t even see it.” And he just looked at me, and he got up and walked away with tears in his eyes.
R became one of the most flamboyant gay men that I have ever met. R was Elton John the next Halloween at school. We all knew, but it was never talked about. R and I became closer than ever. Like an odd couple.
R’s family kicked him out later that year (I never knew the exact details). We would have been around 16/17. He moved along between homelessness,living with older men, working three jobs to live in a dive apartment. His family were religious fanatics (they were JW/Baptists or something similar, I can’t remember). They cut off all ties to R. He was shunned completely.
Within a few months of our high school graduation a friend sent me an email saying that she had bad news. R had committed suicide. He couldn’t leave the small town. He couldn’t get away. Coming out/being gay/dealing with all of the repercussions made him feel like he had to take his life.
Not all of us have the privilege to be out and proud in all areas of our lives. Not all of us care to. Not all of us will ever be able to life our authentic lives. The closets still exist. My prayer today is that young people stay strong. Get out of the small towns if you need to. Find others. Be a friend.
I support the “It gets Better” project. I think one thing that we need to do is be there for people when they do come out. Whether they are 14 or 41. Let them all know that there is a happy, fulfilling life out there for them. It just takes being brave.
So today I miss him. I will listen to some Elton in his memory.
Maybe you will too.
Rich, I hope there’s a bit more sparkle in heaven because of you.