the thing that's been rotating in my head like a horrible little rotisserie thorn is that yuna says: i think we thought maybe you were gay.
we thought maybe you were gay.
we thought maybe you were gay as you grew up and became a professional athlete. rookie of the year. as you navigated this famously homophobic career path. as you tried to put together a public persona, as we guided you through sponsorships and brand deals. we thought maybe you were gay as we watched you, our shy and anxious and awkward son, as you grew into an isolated adult. few friends, no real romances. your mom still buys your shirts. you have always lived alone.
we thought maybe you were gay, but we didn't say anything.
i think - your mother, i - for a while now, we've thought maybe for a while now - we thought - we thought it, we didn't say it, never out loud - because that would mean we had to address it and that would mean we might be right. we kept our eyes down and our mouths shut and we know you so, so well, but we didn't ask and we didn't say anything, not even when scott hunter did all that right out there in front of god and the cup and everyone, and we let it slide off us and into history, past tense, and didn't look too closely at your reaction because we thought maybe you --
i'm sorry that i made you feel like you couldn't tell me.
because i did that. and i knew i was doing it while i was doing it. and i know that you know, now, that i knew i was doing that. i looked away so things could be easier for you because it's there's nothing to tell there's no need for a statement. no need for a plan.
and all this time, all your adult life, since your rookie season, the summer before, you've been in love - lovers - no, look at the way you look at him, you've been in love - and you've kept it secret while we made him your rival. pitted you against him. played up conflict and animosity against him. we sat together at tables with an empty chair where he should have been, where he is now, and hated him if we thought of him at all, and now you sit here and tell us you want to keep that secret another ten years, another fifteen because we made you think that this - this weight, this pressure, this fear we can see in the line of your shoulders and the way you breathe - that this is somehow easier.
you would have kept that secret another ten years, another fifteen. you aren't telling us now because you're ready, or because you want to. you're telling us because you were caught.
found out what, exactly? as if maybe your father was still going to keep that secret for you. as if he didn't tell me, not the whole of it. not everything he saw. as if you could have pretended you hadn't seen him, and he would have pretended he hadn't seen you. another ten years. another fifteen.
we thought maybe you were gay.
but we hung onto: maybe not.
