Friday, July 16, 2010

Yesterday my stepfather killed himself.

He threatened to kill himself earlier this week. We didn’t think he would do it. He left horrible suicide notes, I figured very prominently. He said it was either him killing me “to have one less queer on the planet” or suicide. Yesterday he chose to leave this world.

Strangely, I never hated him. He married my mom before I came out. I was his favorite of her 5 kids. When I came out he felt betrayed. Like my homosexuality and his former love of me indicted him and his sexuality. From then on, these last five years, he has been inhumane. Most of the time it was as benign as only greeting his straight stepkids, passing me over, no eye contact. Sometimes it was more personal, he wouldn’t let my mother lend me her car when mine was in the shop. Even though he had let my siblings drive his truck across country the year before. So I walked to school, even then I didn’t hate him. Maybe I thought I was getting what I deserved.


Maybe I so desperately needed my mom to be happy, that I decided to act like it didn’t matter. I’m pretty sure it did matter.


Last week George and I had a fight. He went crazy and said some really mean things, the dam in my head broke. For the first time in our relationship I stood up to him, I demanded he apologize. He wouldn’t. I talked to my mom about the situation because I couldn’t resolve it myself. It brought a lot of demons in their marriage out to the foreground. And their conversations ended only with uncertainty. Four days ago he had a shotgun to his face, it was his way of demanding I withdraw. I did. I thought he was melodramatic and childish, that it was a ploy.


Yesterday he shot himself. I had so many hateful thoughts about him this week. But mostly I just felt pity. I had no way to compromise. I am good at comprising. But I had nothing left to give.


I mourn the loss my mother and his sons feel. I mourn his prematurely ended life. I mourn the help his family would have given him if he had been able to ask. I cannot mourn his blinding hatred of me. I know its irrational and crazy, but now all I feel is guilt.