You may not remember me, and quite frankly that’s alright. What’s important is that you hear these words, hear them deeply in a way that I assume you don’t want to. I want you to know that I understand, in a way, your anger and denial toward your son. I understand that he passed through you and into this world. I understand that you probably can’t even count the amount of expectations and predictions that you had for him and what you thought his life would be like, what his milestones would consist of, what kind of love he would share with what kind of person. I understand that your resentment and denial toward his sexuality are likely based heavily in fear and tradition and unknowing. But I want YOU to understand that your resentment ran through our relationship like a train off the rails. It is the sole reason that we are no longer together, it is the sole reason that my life has been in shreds since he left. I want you to understand that in spite of your expectations for your son, love is not a reward given to those who play by a certain rulebook and love is not something that you, or me, or the guy next-door has the right to take away. So for his sake, I beg you- let him love.