In this little gay internet corner of mine (and at 36 years old in the year 2026, I know whatever I write/wrote here doesn't belong to me, Google might be/is using my writings to feed Gemini's insatiable appetite for human nuances in order to fortify itself ), I have documented a huge part of my growth as a gay adolescent in a country that is horrid towards people like us. In the year 2026, the same persecution exists in eliminating social spaces that help us to find community and belonging, unlike way back in 2012 or 2011 where such spaces were thriving (at least I believe it did, when I fact-checked my memories with the writings on my blog).
But I digress. That will be another topic for another post, and today I would like to direct my writings to my younger self, the Thomas in his twenties. There was a lot of I-wish-it-can-be-better and I-wish-I-wasn't-in-this-situation kind of thinking, but let me tell you baby, you have to be patient, because things do get better.
So to Thomas in his twenties, here's what I would say to you. There are a lot of people who do not care at all about your well-being. Be it physical health, mental health, or financial health. I know that you did care about them in a totally opposite way, because you were taught to be kind and gentle, no matter the situation. In the end, you will forgive them, but you won't forget what they did to you.
One thing you must always remember to do is to always forgive yourself first. You do not have to be so hard on yourself. Because at the end of the day, you are the one who will be sitting with these feelings. So you must forgive yourself first.
The second thing that I need to tell you is that you will get what you have been seeking. Even though the universe have packaged it in a totally different way, but it will come. You will go to places you have never dreamt of, and having experiences that are out of this world. One thing you must remember; it will not happen all at once. Like a gas tank that fuels four gas burners, only two or three can be lighted at the same time for maximum efficiency. But, it will happen, one at a time.
And when it comes, remember to just soak in it. There is no need to indulge yourself with the chase. When you stop and smell the roses, the butterflies of life will come quietly and rest on your shoulders. So cherish these little moments when they arrive.
The third is to have faith. You're not a religious person per se, but you know that faith will bring you solace in times of need, in times of confusion, and in times of despair. So put this into your heart. And remember, karma always finds a way.
The fourth? You're a strong person. Looking back, I have no idea how you did so well, withstanding all the raging storms in life. Knowing how you were back then, you might have given up long ago. But you did not.
So don't give up. Because if you do, I won't be here today. Thank you for being such an amazing, strong guy for me.
Also, let me give you some updates about your current life. You have an amazing boyfriend, a love/hate relationship with him, and an old cat that you love to take care of. Your career has stabilised through it all. You have food on the table and a roof over your head. A new roof is coming soon because the condo that you decided to buy in your 30s is now finally ready, just waiting for the keys to be handed over.
Even though the noise about things that you have no control over is getting louder, you have now gained better control over your life, your finances, and your connections.
So to the Thomas in the twenties, dry off those tears. Build yourself up, brick by brick, because I promise you, life does get better. Just hang in there for me.
Another story from the deep recesses of my mind. Enjoy. :)
For reasons more than I could comprehend, my ex is suddenly out of my door for almost half a year. That's 180 days, compared to the 1400 days that we've been together. Is it sad? Is it lonely to be so?
The fan in my room pounded the air with such force, that I was suddenly awaken by the white noise with this idea in my thoughts. I've not been in a relationship for almost six months, my brain repeated.
And to add salt to the wound, this paragraph emerges from the chest of drawers within my head...
I took a look at my phone. It's fucking 5am. And Lord Alfred Tennyson appeared. Such great timing, brain. Thanks. It's a time for me that's hard to go back to sleep, for fearing I might miss the alarm. And my brain has to do this for me. Thanks again bud. I'll keep you sedated with a pitcher of Long Island Tea next time.
I woke up and turned off the bathroom lights. What greeted me in the mirror is the look of a man, so deep within his emotions and thoughts in the middle of the night. Not exactly a good look. And I need to start my exercise routine. As soon as I could.
Yeah, my jaw looks chiseled, my straight hair tousled, my ribs poking out due to me going on a diet and counting calories. My arms looked better than ever, my chest too. But my abs are still hidden beneath a layer of fat that I so despise, I might trade it off with my limited-edition WOW postcards for Winter Veil, just for a glimpse of it and a 2-second fame on Instagram.
People generally say I look good these days, better than ever before. But is it so? The gay visual perception of themselves is always a few notches behind what people perceive. I find it hard to believe that I was the fat, weird, nerdy kid last time in high school. I still have that part inside me. Heh.
Ding!
Who's messaging me at this hour?
"Hey, I just want to say I miss you."
Alfie. The guy that I somehow connected with a month ago. It's another missed opportunity in my dating life; Alfie has a boyfriend. And he went back to the United States to continue with his studies. Shows no interest in long distant relationships.
"It's 5am something in Malaysia. Not sure whether should I say good morning or evening. hahaha"
"You need to do something? Waking up so early?'
"Nope, just waking up suddenly in the middle of pretending to be dead, God knows why."
"Hahaha :) Do you miss me?"
"If I say I'm not, I would be lying to you. I like your company when you're here. :)"
"I miss the mamak stalls. Nothing here compares to it."
I go silent. Yeah, mamak stalls. When you're here, we'll always hang out for cendols, teh tariks, and basically everything that we could get our hands at the mamak stall. It's not the food, it's your company. We enjoyed each other's company so much we basically had a few rounds of stuff just to prolong the conversation.
You, with your dark chocolate skin, bushy eyebrows, the stubbled jaw, and wavy hair that you always attempt to flatten it out on the sides.
Me, taking it all in that handsome face, that slim atheletic build, which I hope to see again next summer holiday.
"Yeah, of course nothing compares to it."
Two grey ticks. Received, but not yet seen. Must be in class, that boy. As I put my phone down, getting to readjust myself into bed, another buzz came along.
"I hope our plan to Bangkok is still on. You're coming, right?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll look up the air tickets when I'm free kay?"
"Keep in touch kay? I do miss you, you bugger. :*"
Flirting on the phone again. Old habits never die, especially for Alfie. As I lay my head on my pillow, my head got thinking all the possibilities that could have been, might have been. Ifs. Whys.
And my thoughts lay asunder, with Alfie's face filling in the space. Those lips, softer than the inner petals of a rose. Those hands, thin with sinew but holds a ton in between them. My head is filled with his scent, the scent of cardamoms, the scent of cinnamon, the scent of spices.
The scent of a man over the phone.
For reasons more than I could comprehend, my ex is suddenly out of my door for almost half a year. That's 180 days, compared to the 1400 days that we've been together. Is it sad? Is it lonely to be so?
The fan in my room pounded the air with such force, that I was suddenly awaken by the white noise with this idea in my thoughts. I've not been in a relationship for almost six months, my brain repeated.
And to add salt to the wound, this paragraph emerges from the chest of drawers within my head...
Tears, idle tears, I know not what they mean,
Tears from the depth of some divine despair
Rise in the heart, and gather to the eyes,
In looking on the happy Autumn-fields,
And thinking of the days that are no more.
I took a look at my phone. It's fucking 5am. And Lord Alfred Tennyson appeared. Such great timing, brain. Thanks. It's a time for me that's hard to go back to sleep, for fearing I might miss the alarm. And my brain has to do this for me. Thanks again bud. I'll keep you sedated with a pitcher of Long Island Tea next time.
I woke up and turned off the bathroom lights. What greeted me in the mirror is the look of a man, so deep within his emotions and thoughts in the middle of the night. Not exactly a good look. And I need to start my exercise routine. As soon as I could.
Yeah, my jaw looks chiseled, my straight hair tousled, my ribs poking out due to me going on a diet and counting calories. My arms looked better than ever, my chest too. But my abs are still hidden beneath a layer of fat that I so despise, I might trade it off with my limited-edition WOW postcards for Winter Veil, just for a glimpse of it and a 2-second fame on Instagram.
People generally say I look good these days, better than ever before. But is it so? The gay visual perception of themselves is always a few notches behind what people perceive. I find it hard to believe that I was the fat, weird, nerdy kid last time in high school. I still have that part inside me. Heh.
Ding!
Who's messaging me at this hour?
"Hey, I just want to say I miss you."
Alfie. The guy that I somehow connected with a month ago. It's another missed opportunity in my dating life; Alfie has a boyfriend. And he went back to the United States to continue with his studies. Shows no interest in long distant relationships.
"It's 5am something in Malaysia. Not sure whether should I say good morning or evening. hahaha"
"You need to do something? Waking up so early?'
"Nope, just waking up suddenly in the middle of pretending to be dead, God knows why."
"Hahaha :) Do you miss me?"
"If I say I'm not, I would be lying to you. I like your company when you're here. :)"
"I miss the mamak stalls. Nothing here compares to it."
I go silent. Yeah, mamak stalls. When you're here, we'll always hang out for cendols, teh tariks, and basically everything that we could get our hands at the mamak stall. It's not the food, it's your company. We enjoyed each other's company so much we basically had a few rounds of stuff just to prolong the conversation.
You, with your dark chocolate skin, bushy eyebrows, the stubbled jaw, and wavy hair that you always attempt to flatten it out on the sides.
Me, taking it all in that handsome face, that slim atheletic build, which I hope to see again next summer holiday.
"Yeah, of course nothing compares to it."
Two grey ticks. Received, but not yet seen. Must be in class, that boy. As I put my phone down, getting to readjust myself into bed, another buzz came along.
"I hope our plan to Bangkok is still on. You're coming, right?"
"Yeah, sure. I'll look up the air tickets when I'm free kay?"
"Keep in touch kay? I do miss you, you bugger. :*"
Flirting on the phone again. Old habits never die, especially for Alfie. As I lay my head on my pillow, my head got thinking all the possibilities that could have been, might have been. Ifs. Whys.
And my thoughts lay asunder, with Alfie's face filling in the space. Those lips, softer than the inner petals of a rose. Those hands, thin with sinew but holds a ton in between them. My head is filled with his scent, the scent of cardamoms, the scent of cinnamon, the scent of spices.
The scent of a man over the phone.
*Based on my own experience. Enjoy a short story from me.*
My watch shows it's 11pm. The cafe's almost closed, but he's not replying. I waited patiently as down another cup of black coffee. No sugar.
Should have asked for sugar. But no, the waistline! Such a dilemma. Coffee's not helping. I'm getting even more nervous.
Ding!
My fingers swiped to see his answer.
"There's nothing wrong with your results, Tom."
"You're sure, Izzu?"
"It's just your hepatitis antibodies getting low. I could give you a jab and a hardcopy of the report on Monday."
My heart lets off a sigh of relief, but my brain is bringing me back to a memory from a year ago.
***
"Dear, you should get yourself checked. We're in this relationship for four years. Could you at least do this for me? You requested to see my health report when we're together, so now it's your turn to do it."
I sat in his car, fiddling with the seat belt. I've always liked the seat belt. He puts this little padding on it that helps to keep your shirts getting all wrinkly when you're using it. Hmm. Little monkey on a seatbelt.
"Okay, anything for you." I replied half-heartedly. I mean, why should I go get tested? I have been faithful. I'm not like the other guys. I don't have Jackd. I don't have Grindr. I don't meet other guys! I don't have a gay social life! Why want me go get tested?
***
"You're tested positive for gonorrhea, Mr Tom."
"Err... You're sure, doctor? I really have been faithful. No other guys."
"You do drugs?"
"No. Of course not."
"You drink?"
"Socially yes, but I don't get myself drunk."
"Maybe you'd like to discuss this with your partner."
The Whatsapp messages flew. Dear is to go the clinic to get tested right away after work. Report came back. He's negative. How could this be? Where have I gotten it?
"You don't have to worry, Mr. Tom. I'll prescribe you a course of antibiotics and a jab. It is most important you get this treated, as having an STI may increase the chances of getting other infections as well as HIV."
***
We broke up a few months after that. There's nothing now but cordial messages between us, and the occasional Facebook status updates. We didn't unfollow or unfriend each other. We just ignore the streams of photos that our friends tagged us.
Friends. I have a few friends. For benefits, that is.
You have no idea how these men worshipped me. I still get messages from them whenever they're in town. But sometimes it's just so sudden, that I couldn't accommodate them all. There's work and there's family. I couldn't fuck every night, even if I wanted to.
How much has changed. I, the wallflower that refuses to participate in the orgies and fantasies of the gay community, finally succumbed to it, for I, wanting to drown myself in the hedonistic waves, relieving me of this sorrow, this sorrow of breaking up with the first man I've ever loved.
But of course it comes with a price. Condoms are not cheap. Lube is not cheap. Getting tested in a private clinic, in the comfort of an understanding doctor, is not cheap. And that's what happened in the first paragraph. My doctor Whatsapped me my results. Or more like my old flame Whatsapping me my results.
Then, it dawned on me.
For four years, I've been stupid enough to believe a man who says that he is as faithful as I am to him. I got gonorrhea when I am with him.
I got nothing when I practically fucked each and every guy who is sexually compatible with me.
His pride. And his lies.
Goodbye motherfucker.
My watch shows it's 11pm. The cafe's almost closed, but he's not replying. I waited patiently as down another cup of black coffee. No sugar.
Should have asked for sugar. But no, the waistline! Such a dilemma. Coffee's not helping. I'm getting even more nervous.
Ding!
My fingers swiped to see his answer.
"There's nothing wrong with your results, Tom."
"You're sure, Izzu?"
"It's just your hepatitis antibodies getting low. I could give you a jab and a hardcopy of the report on Monday."
My heart lets off a sigh of relief, but my brain is bringing me back to a memory from a year ago.
***
"Dear, you should get yourself checked. We're in this relationship for four years. Could you at least do this for me? You requested to see my health report when we're together, so now it's your turn to do it."
I sat in his car, fiddling with the seat belt. I've always liked the seat belt. He puts this little padding on it that helps to keep your shirts getting all wrinkly when you're using it. Hmm. Little monkey on a seatbelt.
"Okay, anything for you." I replied half-heartedly. I mean, why should I go get tested? I have been faithful. I'm not like the other guys. I don't have Jackd. I don't have Grindr. I don't meet other guys! I don't have a gay social life! Why want me go get tested?
***
"You're tested positive for gonorrhea, Mr Tom."
"Err... You're sure, doctor? I really have been faithful. No other guys."
"You do drugs?"
"No. Of course not."
"You drink?"
"Socially yes, but I don't get myself drunk."
"Maybe you'd like to discuss this with your partner."
The Whatsapp messages flew. Dear is to go the clinic to get tested right away after work. Report came back. He's negative. How could this be? Where have I gotten it?
"You don't have to worry, Mr. Tom. I'll prescribe you a course of antibiotics and a jab. It is most important you get this treated, as having an STI may increase the chances of getting other infections as well as HIV."
***
We broke up a few months after that. There's nothing now but cordial messages between us, and the occasional Facebook status updates. We didn't unfollow or unfriend each other. We just ignore the streams of photos that our friends tagged us.
Friends. I have a few friends. For benefits, that is.
You have no idea how these men worshipped me. I still get messages from them whenever they're in town. But sometimes it's just so sudden, that I couldn't accommodate them all. There's work and there's family. I couldn't fuck every night, even if I wanted to.
How much has changed. I, the wallflower that refuses to participate in the orgies and fantasies of the gay community, finally succumbed to it, for I, wanting to drown myself in the hedonistic waves, relieving me of this sorrow, this sorrow of breaking up with the first man I've ever loved.
But of course it comes with a price. Condoms are not cheap. Lube is not cheap. Getting tested in a private clinic, in the comfort of an understanding doctor, is not cheap. And that's what happened in the first paragraph. My doctor Whatsapped me my results. Or more like my old flame Whatsapping me my results.
Then, it dawned on me.
For four years, I've been stupid enough to believe a man who says that he is as faithful as I am to him. I got gonorrhea when I am with him.
I got nothing when I practically fucked each and every guy who is sexually compatible with me.
His pride. And his lies.
Goodbye motherfucker.
