Sunday Bloody Sunday

In two weeks, my ex's son turns 18. Monumental? No. Sentimental? Yes. A little over three years ago, my ex, Michelle, said I could no longer see Gabriel. Why? Because she read his emails and discovered he told me he is bisexual. I always imagined a kid coming out to his parents, a parent that had an approximate ten year lesbian relationship, would be easy. It wasn't. The story he told made me cry. She didn't accept him. Then I remembered his parent is my ex. While I told him via email to be safe with his body and his heart, she told him it is just a phase. She read his emails and determined my acceptance of him was a negative influence. That's it. I told her I would oblige her wishes, but she would have to be the one to tell Gabriel. I told her he will be 18 soon. He has my email and my phone number and when he is 18, I would be happy to hear from him. 

I am not stupid and I am not holding my breath. Gay divorce is bloody. So bloody, that for me to get to the point where I could see Gabriel, I had to negotiate with Michelle for a long time to get her to let me spend Sundays with him. Michelle told me the last time we "met", while lying in my bed, the only reason why she is with her current fiance is because she is "the mother of a son and needs to stop hating men". That's an interesting reason to be straight. When it was finally over [for good], she refused to let me see him. She knew I loved him as much as I loved my nephew, my son. She knew it would hurt me. She knew it did. She set up rules that I had to obey in order to see him. 

Gabriel explained to me, when I took him out the first Sunday, he was depressed. He said he attempted suicide. He said he had a counselor at school. I just wanted to hold him. He talked. I mean he talked and talked and talked and talked and it didn't take me long to realized he talked because I listened. At the end of every Sunday he said he didn't want to leave. I explained as long as we want to hang out, we have to follow Michelle's rules in order to do so. That meant 7pm sharp curfew. He said he was just going home to be alone. I told him to never say anything bad about his mother to me. Not because it was disrespectful, but because it broke my heart.

When she said I could no longer see him, it hurt more than you could imagine. It was a familiar sting.  He is and will always be my Gaby. I wish the best for him and success. I don't need for him to call or email me in two weeks. What I want is for him to be happy with himself and his life. I relish the fact that I have known this amazing boy [turning into a man] since he was 8 months old. Nothing on earth will make me not love him. Not even his mother. I am lucky to say I know him. I love him more each day.