A Cold, Cold Christmas

"I've lost him, Sally. I've lost him forever. It feels hhhorrrrible. I want to take out my heart so I'd never feel this way again."



It's strange the way things turned out. Had AD told me this over a year ago, I would have done backflips -- I was inlove with him then. I would have wanted him to drop his prick of a boyfriend and then spend his life with me. He never knew that, of course, and I wouldn't have wanted him to know because his situation was beyond my control. Like they say, Once gay, Always gay. I dropped my plans of "converting" him into a fully functioning straight guy, and then we became, strangely, the best of friends.


"You'll be all right, sweetie," I told him. "Nobody dies of heartbreaks."


"This is going to be the worst Christmas I'll ever have," he sobbed into the telephone. He was in KL, back with his family. He took a two-week emergency leave without telling anyone, apart from our boss Sarah, of his plans to fly home. I was despondent when I knew through an out-of-office notice email. He didn't even tell me in person.


My thoughts flew to the first time he opened up to me. We were in Bangkok for an assignment, and it had been weeks since he last saw TC, his boyfriend. He showed up on my hotel door, looking for someone to talk to. We talked, and mostly it was about his latest love. I tried my best not to show my displeasure. Then he squinted his eyes and covered them with his hands. He fell silent, like he was holding his breath. And then I knew he was crying. "I miss him so much it hurts," he said. I reached out and held him for the longest time until I couldn't feel him shivering in pain. "You're tired. You should sleep it off," I said.


When he left my hotel room, I knew we'd always be together. And then we were, just not in the way I imagined it.


"I'm sorry to ruin your Christmas," he said. I heard him sniffle into a wad of tissue.


"No, no, don't. Don't be sorry. We're friends, remember? He doesn't deserve you, AD." I pictured TC in my mind, and secretly I wished that his penis would burst open like a flower when he sleeps with another guy. I never did like him.


"Yeah, right. Oh well, we'd better end this call. I'll see you as soon as I get back."


"I love you, sweetie. Merry Christmas. Don't try to kill yourself, okay?" I said. "I'd be very disappointed."


"I love you, too, darling. If I slash my wrist, Sarah would kill me. Say Merry Christmas to your family for me, okay?"


We said good bye, knowing we'd meet again in the New Year. He'll be better.



*Image from Getty.