Spilling The Tea, Part 7: A Closeted Gay Ruined My Life

Spilling The Tea, Part 7:

A Closeted Gay Ruined My Life

Hello hello!

Welcome to the second-to-last editorial in this series. Gah, isn’t it crazy, Dear Reader? It feels like we just started! Well, for my emotional energy, this series feels like it’s been going on all year. If I’m being candid with you, I must admit that being vulnerable and open on a consistent basis is quite exhausting. However, do you know what else is exhausting? Authenticity. 

For many people like myself, being authentic comes with the idea of being an openly gay man. While I’ve gone over my coming-out story before in this year’s pride month essay, there are a lot of aspects to being on the queer spectrum that are flat-out exhausting. 

For many people who do not live life like myself, being authentic is a privilege that comes with a lot of sacrifice.  

However, what happens when being authentic translates into coming out of the closet? What happens when your relationship with someone is cognitional by someone else’s ability to come out of the closet?

For this, we’ll be going over how a closeted gay ruined my life…

For today’s post, let’s meet Preston.

Preston and I met on a gay dating app. Preston lived in the next town over, went to college, and was fairly independent. After chatting back and forth for a while, Preston and I turned our casual conversation, into a flirtatious one. We made plans for him to come over to my apartment to, well uh, 'dot dot dot'. 

Well, that’s not entirely what happened. 

Preston arrived at my door, and upon arriving, he looked up at me and gasped. He tensed up, and could barely say a word. You could tell that he was nervous.

As for myself? I thought he was much more cute in person. For me, it felt like love at first sight. 

I don’t recall Preston and I doing the 'dot dot dot', but somehow or another, we did find ourselves getting dinner and having an impromptu date. 

We eventually found ourselves on the roof top of my apartment’s parking garage, and tracked flights as they flew above us. We watched the sky all night.

It was pure magic.

Three days later, he came back down to my apartment for another date. We got food together, cuddled on the couch, and had another romantic evening. However, while Preston was on the way out the door, he looked up at me and asked, “Hey, do you wanna be my boyfriend?”

I was taken aback. I really liked Preston, but I was still weary about getting hurt again after the break-up from my last partner (which, I talked about in the series here). 

But, Preston wasn’t my ex. Preston wasn’t any of those other people. To add, he was relatively younger, so maybe it would be nice to date someone with a new disposition on life, right?

I was hesitant, but I said yes to his proposal. When I did, his face turned red, his eyes glittered, and he floated out of my apartment. His reaction was cute, wholesome, and sweet. His doe-eyed excitement made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. It was sweet, and it was special.

However, I can’t pinpoint when exactly we had this conversation, but we did have a conversation about him being out to his family. 

“Well, since I’m in college, I’m still living at home I can’t be out to my family or friends, but as things progress, I’ll come out and open up to them. Is that okay?” he asked.

After having a wild coming-out story of my own, I knew that this was something that was sensitive. If anything, I just wanted him to feel happy and safe. 

So, I replied to him, “Take whatever time you need, I won’t pressure you into anything.”

He felt safe, and we both felt closer to each other…

Thanksgiving came around, and Preston said he couldn’t see me because he had to be with family. Although we were just in a new relationship, and although I wanted to see him, I just told myself that for normal hetero-relationships, new partners don’t typically see each other on holidays. That isn’t a ‘being in the closet’ issue. However, the first road bump we had arrived shortly after Thanksgiving: was Preston’s birthday. 

Preston’s birthday was at the beginning of December, and for his birthday, he wanted to have a birthday celebration with his family, and another one with his friends. For the celebration with his friends, he reserved several spots at Top Golf and invited me to go with him. He said he wanted me to meet his friends and wanted to introduce me as his boyfriend. I felt flattered, and I felt special that I’d be meeting his friends. 

Until, the weekend before, when he announced that he wasn’t out to his friends, and he’d be coming out to them by introducing me to them. 

While flattered, I got nervous. 

And with nervousness, came another conversation with Preston. The day before, he called me and said, “Hey so, I think when we go to Top Golf, you should not announce you’re my boyfriend. My best friend Rick is going, and I don’t think he’ll react well to me coming out. Can you come as just one of my friends?”

After giving it thought, I replied, “You know, I don’t want to push you into coming out, but I don’t feel comfortable lying. I already had my own coming-out journey, and I didn’t want to lie and pretend to be in the closet — especially around my boyfriend. If you want me to come, then I’ll come as your boyfriend. If you don’t feel comfortable coming out, then I’ll sit this one out and see you another time.”

After some thought, I wanted to question him about why he was friends with homophobic people. However, that wasn’t my concern. I just waited for him to reply. 

And to my surprise, he replied, “No, I love you, and I want you to be there. You’re a part of my life now, and that’s the way it’s going to be.” 

The next day, we arrived at Top Golf. After arriving at Top Golf, Person walked in with a group of his friends. And as he introduced me to each and every one of his friends, they all seemed to be okay with him coming out. They were actually supportive. 

Then, he introduced me to his best friend Rick, “Cody, this is Rick. Rick, this is my boyfriend, Cody.”

Preston turned bright red, turned around, and quietly waited for a reaction. 

Rick looked at me, then looked at Preston. With surprise, he said, “What?! Are you in a relationship? Since when? Why didn’t you tell me?”

Very nervously, Prison quietly and quickly replied, “…because it’s with a guy.”

Rick shook his head in confusion and said, “A guy? Dude, who cares about if it’s with a guy? I just wish you would have told me sooner! I'm your best friend, I want to know about your life.” 

Preston let out a sigh of relief, smiled, and hugged Rick. 

For the rest of the night, we all ate, played golf, and had a good time. To my surprise, and to Preston’s surprise, I got along with Rick the most out of all of these friends. Preston felt better about bringing me, and for a moment, everything was perfect between us…

Then, the next weekend rolled around — the weekend he was supposed to celebrate his birthday with his family. And during the time he was supposed to be with his family, he called me crying. 

Between the sobbing, he managed to explain that his family didn’t celebrate his birthday with him. His mom and dad worked for different school systems, and due to their work schedule, they both had to cancel their dinner plans with Preston. His twin-sister went out with friends, which meant, he’d be home alone. His family just gave him a gift, didn't buy him a cake, and said that they’d just celebrate it with him the next year. He tried to get out that, he didn’t feel special anymore and didn’t know what do to. 

I managed to interrupt his sobbing, I encouraged him to drive down to my apartment.

To this, he responded with, “I'm already on my way.” 

A few minutes later, I opened my door to a crying mess of a Preston. I opened my arms as he fell into them, and continued crying. After letting him cry it out, I grabbed my keys and drove over to my local Whole Foods. 

While walking into Whole Foods, he asked, “What are we doing here?”

I walked him over to the bakery and said, “We’re picking out a cake. Pick out whichever one you want, and it’s on me. We have a birthday to celebrate!”

His sad disposition, tuned into a happy one. The color returned to his eyes as his cheeks blushed. 

“I’ve never had my own birthday cake before. I’ve always had to share with my twin sister,” he said with surprise.

He picked out his own cake, then I took him to get pizza for dinner — his favorite food. 

We ate, went back to my apartment, and blew out the candles on his cake. 

He left my apartment feeling re-set, happy, and fulfilled. He adored me, and I adored him. And for a moment, everything was calm between us. Everything was perfect.

We were an incredible match…. Until we weren’t. It was from this moment on, that Preston being in the closet started damaging our relationship. 

By the way dear reader, we are reading this series on my blog. As you know by now, stories with happy endings don’t typically find themselves on my blog.

The following weekend, Preston and I got tickets to see Taylor Swift’s ‘The Eras Tour’ at AMC theater. It was the last weekend it was playing at AMC, and I had wanted to see it. The closest AMC theater to us was fifteen miles south of my apartment. So, our plan was this: Go see Taylor Swift at AMC, get dinner afterward, then spend the night at my apartment. He told his parents he was going to be at a friend's house for the night, and everything was in the clear.

We went to AMC, watched Taylor Swift, and had an incredible time. However, upon walking out of the theater, we saw that we were right in the middle of a snowstorm. 

The weather predicted snow, but not until midnight that night. However, it started early, and all of the roads were covered. 

We got into his car and drove back to my apartment. 

While on my way to my apartment, we noticed one massive issue: There were no snow plows on the road, and there were dozens of cars that had slid off the road and wrecked into the ditch. Preston had experience driving in the snow, and despite that, his car spun out of control and almost hit another car, while only going 15 miles per hour. 

For the fifteen miles, it took us two hours to get back to my apartment. It was the scariest car ride of my life.

Immediately after arriving back at my apartment, Preston got a phone call from his dad. He stepped outside to take the call, and when he came back in, there was a problem.

“He, my dad said I have to come back home.”

My anxiety instantly spiked, as, his home was thirty miles north. The winter storm was worse up North, and the roads still weren’t clear. 

“What all did you tell your family?!” I asked.

“I told him I was with friends at the university. He thinks I’m only a few miles away from home. ,” he responded with defeat. 

While still dizzy from our two-hour drive I urged him to tell his dad that he couldn’t come home at night and that the drive was too dangerous for him to make.

Preston pulled out his phone, called his dad, and said, “Dad, the roads are not plowed and they’re too dangerous. I can just spend the night with my friends, and come home in the morning. The roads should be clear by then.”

Then, through this phone, I could hear his dad yell, “It’s only a few miles away, Preston! The snow is bad, and you need to get home now!”

Preston hung up the phone, packed his stuff, and left.

It took him three hours to go home that night. 

The next morning, I eventually confronted Preston: “You’re a grown adult, and you work and support yourself. Why are your parents so strict on you being home?”

He replied, “Well, they said as long as they’re paying for my college, and I live at home, then I have to abide by their rules.”

I then replied, “So, why not move out? If you can’t be out of the closet to them, and they’re this controlling that you have to leave where you are safe and drive in a blizzard, then maybe you move out? Why not stand up for yourself?!”

He then replied, “But, why would I move out? I have everything paid for. They even pay for my vacations. Why would I cut that off?” 

I didn't want him to feel like he had to choose between his family and myself, so I dropped it.

A week later, Preston and I had made plans for the weekend. However, they fell through. Preston had a family emergency, and his sister ended up in the ER for a non-life threatening ailment. His parents went to the hospital and needed him to watch the house. 

When I asked when I could see him again, he said, “Well, after this week, we’ll be with family for the holidays and I can’t break away. It’ll be two or three weeks until I can see you again.” 

Then, at that moment, I decided that I have had enough. It wasn’t Preston’s fault that he couldn’t be out of the closet, but this was now negatively impacting my own mental health, and was pulling on my abandonment issues. Besides, Preston already stated his priorities. However, my priorities were to be with something stable. My priorities were that I could be with someone, and not have our plans canceled last minute due to demanding family. Or, that I wouldn’t miss 4 holidays in a row without seeing my partner. 

This wasn’t a relationship.  

I called him and told him that I was breaking the relationship off. However, I told them that I still loved him dearly (which, I did), so I asked if we could stay friends and hold off for now. He said he understood and hung up the phone…

The next day, I woke up to a distressing text from Preston, “I came out to my parents last night. I can’t handle losing you. I told them everything. I came out, and I told them about you. I couldn’t stop crying.” 

Then, a week later, I came home from work to see him on my doorstep. He had several bags with him, and his face was red.

He had been crying. 

“What are you doing here?” I asked

He replied, “I took your advice, and stood up for myself… My parents kicked me out. I’m homeless now.”

He broke down and started balling. I ran over, held him, and brought him into my apartment. I cleaned him up, and after he calmed down, I asked him what happened. 

He said that his family ended up taking issue with him being gay. His dad took him to their pastor at church and demanded that Preston be sent to a conversion therapy camp. After his church said no (because Preston was a full-grown adult), his parents became even more strict.

He picked a fight with his dad, and his dad reacted by kicking him out.

A part of me felt responsible about this, and I wanted to throw up. However, I kept calm for Preston. I convinced Preston to make amends with his dad and to reach out to his mom for help. After a few hours, his mom convinced his dad to let him back home.

Before Preston left, he announced that he was going to be looking for a full-time job and would eventually move out of his parents on his own. He said he was tired of being at the mercy of other people and was ready to be independent. 

So, I took him back. He had a game-plan, and I had newly-found confidence in him.

However, that didn’t last long. 

He eventually went back to canceling plans with me, and cited his parents as the reason why. The more I asked about him becoming independent, he kept brushing it off. Then, for a month straight, nearly every one of our plans had to be canceled or rescheduled. I tried bargaining with him, and seeing if there was a way that I could be a part of his life without his family. But, that didn’t work. He started making plans to hang with friends and refused to invite me along. He kept planning to partake in his hobbies and stopped taking me along. I kept arguing him, and it quikcly became toxic.

Eventually, I confronted him about this, and he said that he had no other option. He expressed that he couldn’t move out, finding a job was too hard, and he didn’t want to give up his lifestyle. He expressed that his family was taking him to Hawaii, and after, to Europe. He even expressed that his family had a trust fund for him, and when he graduated college, they’d buy him a house with the trust fund. He said being independent wasn’t worth it when he could just live at home and enjoy his life the way it was…

I eventually blew up at him. I called him every name in the book, broke up with him, and burned the bridge with him for a final time…

I felt betrayed. I felt used. I felt like I was some science experiment that he used to figure out that this isn’t wasn’t what he wanted. I felt like my love and my connection to him, could be bought out by his parent's money, and that resulted in me feeling the most worthless I had ever felt from a relationship. But, the worst part of it all? We actually got along and we actually loved each other. We had a connection. And we did have good memories. We had our own language that no one else spoke, and it was special for that moment. And, it was gone. 

I learned several things from this.

First, fuck religion and fuck homophobia.

Second, I’ll never date another closeted guy ever again. This was a one-and-done.  Within the gay community, it seems that everyone has had a horror story of dating someone in the closet, and every single time, they never work out in the end. In fact, I have closed myself off from getting close to friends who are very deep in the closet. I already had my own coming-out story and it was enough for one person, for one lifetime. I can't do it again for myself, let alone for someone else.  This may read as harsh, but I can't allow myself to become sucked-in again. I can't handle having another person show up on my doorstep homeless, because of advice I gave them. I cant re-live my own past truama through somoene else again.

Third, when people tell you who they are the first time, believe them. Now, I’m not saying that people don’t deserve second chances. People absolutely deserve grace. However, as I mentioned above, Preston initially told me he enjoyed living off his family’s money. So when I gave him another chance, and he picked his family's money a second time, could I blame him? He already told me this is who he was, so was it really a surprise when he proved it again?

Like I said, when people tell you who they are, believe them the first time. 

Lastly, I learned that the ability to be in the closet, or, come out of it, is a financial privilege. Preston’s ability to go back into the closet, and it be a personal choice, was a privileged one. Not every single gay person on this earth has the financial ability to fluctuate the way they’re honest about their sexuality, to receive a monetary reward in the end. There is no going back for many gay people. To add, in a generalized sense, I’ve see this a lot of with wealthy gay people. A lot of wealthy gay men have the freedom to live a double life. I know many people would argue that not being able to live your true-self would be miserable, but, it is a choice many wealthy gay people make.

I know that when I date again in the future, dating someone who has this type of financial freedom will be a deterrent for me.

One thing I keep going back to, in reflection, is that Preston and I had sent each other raccoon photos throughout our relationship. It was one of those silly things, but we’d see videos or photos of them and we’d pretend it was us. One day, while out and about, we were at a shop that had stuffed animals - including raccoons. I bought him one and wrote ‘Cody’ on the tag, and he bought me one and wrote ‘Preston’ on it, and we gave it to each other. If we missed each other while apart, then we’d cuddle with each other's stuffed raccoon to symbolize cuddling with each other.

And although we broke up months ago, I still sleep with my Preston Raccoon at night.

I still think about him, and I still miss him. 

I don’t know when I’ll stop cuddling the raccoon, but for now, I’ll keep sleeping with it every night until the memory of Preston fades away into nothingness, and wait until he becomes a distant memory…

Thank you, dear Reader, for joining me this week. Next week is the final installment of ‘Spilling The Tea’. Let just me say, I hope you’re ready because the ending is explosive.

I will see you there :)

With much love, 

~Cody Wade

Aka The Oolong Drunk

“Blissfully Tea Drunk…"