Let me start this first and foremost by saying I love you more than I could ever put down into words. Since the day you came into my life you have always been there for me, through the good and the bad, and unfortunately I know on my part there has been a lot more bad then good. You married into a readymade family. You got a wonderful wife in my mother, and you didn’t flinch an inch taking in her three kids and claiming us as your own. That alone makes you the most amazing man in the world and my personal hero.
As a boy, like most, I loved Superman, Spiderman, and all the rest but when it came to super heroes you far surpassed any comic book hero. You were real, and human, and I could hug you anytime I wanted and know that I was safe from any evil in the world. That made me the happiest kid on the planet, that and when you would call me “your Little Buckaroo”.
Fast forward 30 years and while I still see you with that childlike adoration, unfortunately these days it feels like I am more your nemesis than the Little Buckaroo that was.
I know that the biggest part of our issue is that we just don’t communicate. We chat yes, “Hi, how ya doing? How was your day?” But we don’t ever really talk. And I think the fault for that lies in the both of us. For me I feel like I am just going to majorly disappoint you, and I may be wrong here, but I think you are either afraid of what you might hear, or you just don’t want to hear it to begin with.
It seems like the only time that we really get along is when we are working on my truck that is constantly in need of repair. And I have to say I cherish those times. I cherish them because all of a sudden I am 10 years old again and I am your Little Buckaroo again. Sometimes I hope for something to break on my truck just so I can have that time with you.
"I have things that I have been swallowing for far too long, and it is time for me to cough it up . ."
I have attempted on occasion to have a real conversation with you, talk to you about my life and what is going on, and you either seem extremely uninterested, or it turns into a argument with you walking away mad and me walking away dejected. Well that stops right here, today, and yes in front of all of my readers. I have things that I have been swallowing for far too long, and it is time for me to cough it up. I know you will most likely never see this, as far as I know you don’t read my blogs, Mom does so you may hear some of this, but that is neither here nor there, It needs to be said so it is no longer poisoning my chakra.
I know I haven’t been the ideal son, but I have done the best with what life has dealt me. I have made tons of bad choices, and even more stupid mistakes but I absolutely will not apologize for them, they have made me into the man I am today, and although this man is far from perfect, I’m pretty proud of whom I have become.
Although you have been very accepting of my being gay, I know deep down you’re not crazy about having a gay son. It was to be my job to marry, make babies and carry on the family name. That’s just not gonna happen. I didn’t choose to be gay to get out of the contract. I’m gay, don’t know why and I don’t care. It’s just who I am and I will not apologize for it, It’s not my fault.
I know the fact that I have HIV and Hepatitis-B scares the shit out of you - hell it scares the shit out of me most days. And for at least some small part, that is my fault. I went down the wrong roads willingly, nobody forced me to become a drug addict and sleep with most of the men in the free world. I willingly accept my responsibility for the consequences of my actions. And I regret any strife this causes your heart. But again I will not apologize. In a twisted kind of logic, My HIV has saved my life. And I have embraced it as a part of my life. When I tested positive it gave me the kick in the ass to once again get sober and stay sober from drugs. I am taking better care of myself than I ever have and right now I am healthier than I have ever been in my adult life.
I know the first part of your fear has to do with the fact that you have already lost one son, and I know how hard that has been for you, but remember he was my brother and I lost him too. If I could trade places with him so you and Mom could have him back I would do it without thought or hesitation, but I can’t. Again, not my fault.
"Listen when I talk about my disease, my lab results, learn what the numbers mean."
Now the second part of your fear comes from ignorance. Now Iam not saying you are an ignorant man, quite the contrary in fact. You are one of the most educated people I know and I am constantly learning from you. But it would help if you took the time to learn from me. Listen when I talk about my disease, my lab results, learn what the numbers mean. You would also learn that it is impossible for someone to contract either one of my diseases from drinking out of my soda can. Do that and you will see that yes, although I have two incurable, very serious diseases, with the help of my doctor, my medications and my drive to live I will most likely outlive you by a long shot. So again I will not apologize for my disease, it has given me drive and direction in a time of my life when I was more lost than ever.
In short, Dad, this is me, your son, the Little Buckaroo that was and the HIV infected gay man that is. I am not perfect, but I am neither damaged nor broken. I am stronger and prouder than I ever have been. I may not be the son you wanted, but I’m the son you got, take it or leave it, it’s your ball game now.
I love you Dad, you will always be my hero no matter the state of our relationship, but it is important to me that you know how I feel.
Thank you readers for letting me share this part of my struggle with you and as always thank you for reading. XXOO Danny