Come Out (For You, But Mostly Us)

Dear Friend, We’ve known each other for some time now, and while friends should always try to respect each other’s privacy, the truth of the matter is that you’ve been asking too much of us. For years we’ve played along with your charade, but as time passes, it’s just becoming too hard to keep being polite and pretend like you don’t want a dick in your mouth. Yes, you’re gay, and everyone knows it. You are as gay as the day is long on the summer solstice. You have every season of “Teen Mom” on DVD, your hand swishes more than a car’s wiper blades in a monsoon storm, and you could potentially power a small country by harnessing the natural gay heat that rises off of you. So please, come out of the closet. Yes, for you, so that you can finally be yourself and blah blah blah….but mostly for us. Please don’t make us to pretend there’s any chance in Hell you’re straight when you joyfully post on Twitter that you’re “seeing Celine Dion in Vegas AGAIN!! OMG!!” We just can’t do it anymore. Nobody’s that good of an actor. All the Meisner training in the world couldn’t get us to convincingly pretend we actually believe you really want to screw the lead singer of Paramore, or that you really do have a crush on that “quirky/cute” girl from all those independent movies.

Please stop pretending you’re something you’re not, so that we can all finally stop pretending that we believe you. All this denial is simply exhausting. It’s tiring to watch people’s jaws drop in shock when we have to tell them “No, he’s not out of the closet yet.” We grow weary of being worried that we’ll let it slip to your face that we heard you had a weird “reach-around/spooning” incident with another male friend when you were plastered at that party. Sure, it’s hard to come out of the closet. I’m gay too, I understand. I waited until I was 21, and at the time I was living with my parents in Phoenix, Arizona where conservative angry white people are allowed to carry concealed weapons to pretty much everything. You, on the other hand, are almost 30 years old and live in West Hollywood, the gay capital of Los Angeles. Your parents are on the other side of the continent, and are so far removed from anything you do here that you could be the grand marshal of the gay pride parade and they would still be none the wiser. Coming out is a different journey for everyone. But let’s make this less like a 10yr epic Odyssey journey, and more like weekend trip to Palm Springs. So gay closeted friend who can’t deal….deal. Come out.

You can finally be your true self, you can live the life you’re meant to live, and you can give the rest of us a fucking break. It gets better. Not only for you, but for all of your friends who are sick and tired of treating you like anything else than the big ol’ raging homosexual we all know and love. P.S. “Teen Mom” on DVD. Seriously?

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