I still cannot wrap my head around why it was so important to him: the acceptance of the man who threw him out on the streets when he was just a boy for being gay and presenting feminine.
For years he worked hard at becoming more masculine, getting shredded in the gym, attaining high levels of success in his career, dating only women, devoting himself to temples. He was trying to prove something to someone in whose eyes he'd always be incomplete.
Sud was not fully out when we met, and it took him over a year to finally want a committed relationship. When he asked, I didn't believe he was ready. I didn't want to date someone who was still in the closet or just coming out, there always seemed to be so much to work with people just coming out.
But everything I feared about dating someone in the closet never happened, he was better than most men I had dated the first few months. Probably why it was so difficult to move on. No one had ever treated me better than him, so his demons were ones I was willing to dance with.
"Have you eaten? Are you hungry?" I asked. He shook his head. "Come on."
I led him to a nearby street restaurant, a stone away from the apartment building and ordered some hot sour soup, which always helped him detox, alongside panang beef curry, his favorite meal. We sat in a corner, and he sobbed as he ate.
"You haven't asked me what happened."
I didn't want to ask about the details, I knew it'd make him feel worse than he already did. But also, because I was being cautious, I didn't want to get attached.
"It doesn't matter," I replied.
"I thought maybe someone in my family had searched for me, or wanted me back. Some of them didn't even know who I was, Kit. They never even looked for me."
"Sometimes we are born into a home, and sometimes we have to find our homes for ourselves. Sud, you shouldn't be destroying yourself on the account of those people."
He looked up at me with teary eyes. "You used to be my home—you still are."
"I don't think you can really care about someone until you start caring about yourself," I said.
He swallowed and held my gaze for a few seconds.
"Aren't you going to eat?" he asked.
"Later." I reached over and wiped the tears from his cheek. He held my hand.
"Can't I be in your life, at least just as friends. I have no one else, Kit... no one."
"It is too much of a burden to be the only thing in your life, because you're not even present in your own life, how can you not understand this?"
He let go of my hand and went back to eating. I shook my head, letting out a loud exhale. It was the same song over and over again.
"Hey." Jaran arrived.
"Covid is here," I said. "You really do show up everywhere I go."
"Ha ha, very funny. Plerng sent me to buy dinner, not my fault."
"On with it then." I gestured towards the counter. "I've been stuck with you all day; I don't have to see your face all night too."
"And whose fault is that? You are the one that insisted on moving into the office, you could just move out."
"Go away, Jaran."
"Besides my face is a pleasure to look at, it's received a lot of praise over the years. Remember that one that I beat you at Most Handsome Senior of The Year?"
"Ok..." I rolled my eyes.
"It was very satisfying, I recall," he continued, proudly grinning.
"Jaran!" I began when Sud cleared his throat, turning our attention to him.
"Sawatdee krap, Khun, I'm Jaran." He slightly bowed. "His beloved fiancée." He slapped my shoulder.
I smacked his hand away. "Oyi! Jaran! Stop it, eh, I'm not in the mood."
"You're always in the mood." He winked at me. I squinted at him, fisting my palm to show him my ready blow. "You are no fun today." He turned away, walking to the counter.
"I should get going, I have—"
"Is he?" Sud's face wore a stern frown.
I opened my mouth to deny it, explain we were just housemates and co-competitors. I smiled and looked away instead. The thought of using Jaran as a means to deter Sud from further attempts to rekindle what we had crossed my mind.
"Finish eating," I said.
"Are you dating? Is this why you won't take me back?"
"I swear, sometimes with you, it feels like I am talking to a wall. Didn't you hear what I just spent the last twenty minutes saying?"
"Kit, I—"
"Where were we?" Jaran returned, squeezing himself into my seat.
"Why are you still here?"
"Waiting for my order, Grinch. The food doesn't magically cook within five minutes."
"There are so many other seats." I pointed.
"Why waste space." He grinned.
"Jaran.'
"Kit?"
"How long have you two been together?" Sud asked.
"We are not together," I replied sharply.
"You're breaking my heart, Grinchy," Jaran teased, grabbing his chest.
"The pleasure is all mine."
The teasing continued for what seemed like a long moment, and soon, I had forgotten Sud's presence at the table.
"By the way, I'm Sud," he cut into our loud banter.
"Good to meet a friend of the Grinch." Jaran laughed.
"I'm not just his friend, I'm his ex," Sud quickly announced.
"Oh, cool. What did you do to become an ex," Jaran asked, turning to me.
"Why do you assume it's me?"
"Because you have a big mouth and a bigger head."
"Jaran!"
"It wasn't him; it was me," Sud said.
There was no witty response from Jaran as I held Sud's solemn gaze. It was the first time he had ever taken accountability for anything in relation to our break up. I was surprised by it.