Secret Society

unconditional love from a father who spent most of his life in prison, a mother who put crack before her own children, and an older brother who was too busy trying to follow in my father’s footsteps, trying to be a drug dealer. Anyway, it wasn’t until I met you that I found that love-that kind of love you get from a family. I probably would have been lost without it.

I have changed a lot since I’ve been in L.A. with Derrek. I am a different person. I forgive my family and I forgive the pervert rapist who introduced me to homosexuality. I forgive my grandmother who let me live in her house but who didn’t give a shit about me. And most importantly, I forgive myself for hurting so many people and playing with people’s sexuality. And that’s why I’m writing you. I want you as my friend to get out of the game. I want you to stop faking dudes out for your own sake and theirs. You know like I know that it is not fun being gay. Nobody wants to be gay. And to force that lifestyle on a straight man is wrong. I finally see that. There is a man out there who is gay by choice and would love to give you the world, so please wait for him to come along.

Plus, I wouldn’t want to see anything happen to you. You mean a lot to me. Also, Celess, please contact your mom. Be in touch with her, because you only get one. I know she couldn’t handle your being gay and cross-dressing, but at least do your part and keep in touch with her. You are her only child and you two only have each other. With all that said, I love you dearly.

Love ya, girl,

Tina

P.S. I know you are wondering what the hell Derrek did to me. The answer-he showed me what love really was.

Tina was right, I was wondering what the hell Derrek did to her. I closed up the letter and then read the invitation that was placed inside it. Tina and Derrek were getting married at the end of the month in Albany, New York. There were two round-trip train tickets stapled to the invitation. I sat back and reread the letter. I was trying to imagine Tina writing it. I couldn’t see her sitting down and writing a letter, period, much less those words. I took it all in, though, and started to feel mushy. I mean, I was happy that she was truly my friend and that she felt the way she did about me. Just like she didn’t have anybody else, I didn’t either, even though my family was alive. But on the flip side I was upset that she would come out of the blue and ask me to stop doing what I was doing. I mean, back when I was feeling bad about it she was the one telling me to get over it. Now that she found somebody and she was out the game, suddenly she cared about people’s feelings. So what did she expect me to do, get a job and start paying my own bills? Start frequenting gay bars looking for Mr. Right? Please. She had some nerve, I thought.

I put the mail to the side and finished watching my shows. I laughed at parts that weren’t even funny, trying to keep my mind off of Tina’s letter. I tried pushing it to the back of my mind. But it was impossible.

Who was she to tell me to reconcile with my mom when she lived with her grandmom for I don’t know how many years without even saying hi and good-bye? She was the one who told me to hell with my mom when I cried for three days straight after she told me she didn’t have a son anymore. And she said she forgave her grandmom. For what? Her grandmom didn’t do anything except let her do anything she wanted to.

No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t get Tina’s letter off my mind. It was tripping me out and I wanted bad to call her, but I knew I wouldn’t have had the heart to say to her any of what I was thinking. So fuck it, I thought. Fuck the letter and fuck how she felt. Fuck her being a new person. I wasn’t about to have food taken out of my mouth because she found her conscience. And when did the wizard start giving out consciences, anyway? Shit, she should have gotten a brain, because she must be real stupid if she thought I was getting out the game.

It took about a week for me to completely get over the message I got from Tina, and I had to take yoga classes to do it. I just took the letter for what it was worth. In the meantime, I developed a love for yoga. It not only took my mind off of things, but it also occupied my time, which I had a lot of since I was without a man.

“Now breathe,” Debbie, the yoga instructor, said softly.

I was stretched across the floor surrounded by about seven women and two men. We were all in tights and T- shirts. I wore my T-shirt to the middle of my thighs, unlike the other women, who wore baby Ts or sports bras.

“Now pull…Now release.”

The room was completely silent except for the deep breaths. Everyone was concentrating and in their own worlds. It was calming.

“Okay, class, that’s our time,” Debbie said as she slid from her lying position to her knees.

“I’ll see some of you Friday and the rest of you next week.”

After class we all gathered our belongings and scattered. As I left, one of the women, someone new to the class, approached me.

“Great class, I can always go for yoga.”

“Yeah, it definitely does your body good,” I said, not knowing what else to say.

“Yeah, forget about milk, right?” the pale-skinned lady said, winking a big green eye. “I’m Sue Ellen.” She freed her hand from her gym bag to give me a shake.

“Celess,” I said. “Nice to meet you.”

“So how long have you been taking this class? Is the instructor any good?” Sue Ellen asked with a smile. She seemed happier than any average person on any average day.

“For about two weeks now, and yeah, she’s pretty good.”

“Well, uh, listen, I’m headed to Reading Terminal for lunch, you wanna join me?”

I was hungry, so even though Sue Ellen struck me as one of those types who could get on your nerves with all of her talking, I accepted the invitation. I figured a little lunch couldn’t hurt.

Sue Ellen and I walked a few short blocks to Reading Terminal. Center City’s streets were crowded and busy, since it was lunch hour. Inside Reading Terminal, which looked like a mall food court, we got our orders, then grabbed seats at one of the few tables available.

I was happily putting a dent into my cheeseburger and paused when I realized Sue Ellen was looking at me the entire time.

“Here I am eating a cucumber salad and looking like a house and you’re chomping down on a cheeseburger with the works looking like a model. How is that?”

I smiled and said, “Genetics,” and continued chewing.

Sue Ellen kept her eye on me throughout lunch. I thought maybe that’s what white people do and overlooked it. Occasionally I would look up at her and smile. Then I decided to stir up a conversation about class.

“So what gave you the urge to try yoga?” I asked, sipping my root beer.

“I was in a bad car accident a little while back and my doctor recommended it, you know, for therapeutic reasons,” Sue Ellen explained between chewing a fork-full of cucumbers.

“Oh, well, I hope it helps,” I said.

“Yeah, me too. God knows I need to get rid of my back spasms. What about you? Why did you decide to take the class?”

“Honestly, it was a mix of being bored and needing to get my mind off of things,” I responded.

I kept the conversation going to avoid the awkward silences and stares by Sue Ellen. Then, as we were parting ways that afternoon, I found out what her stares were all about.

“It was a pleasure, Sue Ellen,” I said, ending our lunch.

“Oh, believe me, the pleasure was all mine,” she said.