[SS-685] Photo Essay

[PHOTO ESSAY]

"This is how we started: a not so innocent conversation interrupted by shirtless shirt photo messages. After a long day of sensible and naughty talks, we decide to meet. I invited him at home. We had dinner. To say that the night was magical was an understatement. After more than an hour of love making, we talked some more. And the more I know him, the more I fell for him. And I'm sure he felt that way. I took a picture of us nonchalantly talking that night."

The professor looked the first picture that came with the webpost that one of his best students in his contemporary photography class.

One of the two guys in the picture sitting with his lover in the picture was familiar to him and seemed to be so happy sitting with the other guy in that sofa. 

“Our first few months was bliss. I was so happy about our relationship. I wanted to tell the world how in love we were. But aside from out sweet and naughty private moments, there was nothing outside my house that made us bond. He was closeted that was why he was so afraid for us to be seen in public. I was proud of who I was. I was a part of LGBT movements in school and in the community. I urged him to come out. And that was where I was wrong. He was too scared. His fear complicated our relationship. I had this picture of us. It perfectly took our last moments together: cold and distant. He was starting to be unhappy— not because he did not love me— but because he could not celebrate our live the way it should have been celebrated. We agreed to end our relationship. That day, it rained tears.”

The professor felt really sad. The pictures did capture the downward turn of the relationship between the student and his lover, that the professor knew.

“And so, here I am. Naked and alone. Trying to be vulnerable, so the world could lead me to someone strong enough to be love me courageously. But who am I kidding? I still love him. And I pray that he returns, and if he does, I will be strong for the two of us.” 

The professor cried at the story.

Then the door opened. His college-aged son entered the door, “Hi Dad.”

The professor stood, met and hugged his son, “hey. I notice you’ve been sad lately.”

His son weakly smiled, “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

“I know you used to date my student,” the professor disclosed.

“How did you…?” the son panicked, “look Dad, we ended the relationship. I know you wanted me to be married and have a family. I know our relatives will hate me if I love another guy—“

The professor smiled, “no. I saw your picture. I saw how happy you were with him. Do you still love him?”

His son swallowed, “I do. So much.”

“Then get back to him. He’s waiting for you,” the professor advised.

His son cried smiling, “thanks, Dad. Thanks!"