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Sunday, April 26, 2015

Suicide, In Memory of their son lost fifteen months ago.

I didn't get this couples name this past Friday evening, April 24, 2015.  I did give them mine and also my card as into the brief ten minutes we shared in laughter out came my sharing my story as a gay man who lives with HIV, bipolar and substance abuse, that I was a suicide attempt survivor and still have suicidal idealization from time to time, hence my card and how I feel I'm doing God's work, each time I share my story and listen to others.

I'm often asked, do you talk to everyone, my reply yes but more important I listen.

In memory of their son, lost fifteen months ago.

I don't know about most cities but when it comes to intersections and the traffic light both pedestrians and motorists respect one another, most of the time.  I will say it is at these intersections I do my talking and listening.

I was walking on Eight Avenue to catch my bus when I stopped abruptly causing the couple which I has just passed to stop as well.  The only thing I heard, was "are you going to talk this loud all night so that everyone could here what you say," followed by laughter.  The laughter peaked my curiosity so I turned and said what was so funny.  The wife said you heard me, I said no all I heard was your husband and asked her what did you say, her reply, there goes a man I would love to have sex with as they continued to laugh.

My reply, thank you as I was flattered, but replied back that I love people of color, but swing the other way and love the brother which the wife went from laughing to tears as it reminded her of their gay son they lost fifteen months ago.

The husband behind holding her arm, as I said, I'm sorry for your loss and went on to give them my card, and shared that I live with mental illness, bipolar and that I'm also HIV+, that I carry minority stress and that he also did as a gay, black man, that for him, he was a minority within a minority and for me, I'm a minority within a minority, within a minority, that at times I often want to let go, that it is very hard.

 As we hugged, I said let's not go to tears, that I didn't want to ruin their evening, she went on to say, I love this man,  I quickly shifted gears back to laughter saying, "we seem to be enjoying each other lets grab a room and have a three way which she let out with more laughter and said this, " that only in New York can something like this happen on the street."

She said I work in a hotel here in New York City, the husband shared he worked for the Post Office, I said I work at a non-profit and also educate, do awareness around bipolar and HIV and often share my story.  I left them saying email me and in the subject line write:  "I want to have sex with that man" that seeing that will bring me back to tonight's share.  I said if you wish we can meet up, that I don't drink and also feel free to reach out to me if you need assistance with coping with your loss, they replied thank you and we will.

I walked on, grabbed my bag in my arms and said a prayer for them, for their son and for me.


"Wikapedia Minority Stress."

"Increased Risk of Suicide in Blacks and Latino LGBT Men"

"LGBT-Inclusive National Suicide Prevention Strategy"

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