The Hippocrisy of Forgiveness in Musings

I know that it sounds bourgeoisie and stuck up… but everything that I am and everything that I worked for is exactly where it should be.

I fucking smell like Tom Ford parfum, I have a Gorksi chevron fur coat, I have a Birkin bag, I wear Louboutin’s and I don’t give a fuck about it all!

Do you know how hard I had to work for it all? Do you know what a Puerto Rican boy like me from the Projects had to do to achieve this kind of superficial success?! How many fucking dicks I had to suck, how many times I cried because I felt worthless and had to humiliate myself to get ahead? Everything I am, every fucking label I have came with a price! The stretch marks around my mouth will give you an idea of how much I struggled—give head to get ahead. Boys like me were a type of piece of shit, born to struggle—when you are attractive, moreover, when you are beautiful; niggas want to take advantage of you.

Fill my mouth with sperm. Humiliate me. Abuse me… I wasn’t meant to survive, but like a fucking cockroach—I made it.

As nasty as it sounds and as a paradox to my present; I sucked dick and I humiliated myself, degraded myself to be the successful person I am today.

Look at my fucking closet! Look at my jewelry box, full of blood diamonds, and stones that were given to me!!! TO ME!

I should’ve died a long time ago… I should have had AIDS, I should’ve been mentally impaired… but I’m THAT FUCKING BITCH. I don’t quiver under adversity, I’m resilient.

Jorge was beaten up and he felt like an asshole for staying with me. I’m not here to help you, I’m here as an example—as a fucking leader…

I’m fabulous. I’m not super rich—I’m the poorest of the rich… bitches like me were made to die…I’m still here mother fucker! And I’m here in louboutin’s, a Birkin bag, and all of my outfit is worth your entire mortgage. I didn’t crumble. I didn’t do what you expected.

Jorge woke up panicked. “Wake up, you punk ass bitch” I said as he grabbed my forearms. And Alex walked out the bedroom. ” Andy? Right?” He said as he held on to my arms.
“Yeah!” I said as I stood up. “Andy is my name!” I said as Alex made his protein whatever juice.
“Andy let him be babe” Alex said as he continued to blend his own kale, celery whatever.
“No!” I said pulling Jorge’s arm around my neck “you see his bruises Alexander?!” I sad feeling my eyes fill up with water “whoever this asshole is, whoever hurt him—you fucking hurt me” I said as I felt my throat choke. “You fucking hurt me! You beat me and I was a dumb bitch and you wanted to fell superior!” I said.

Alex pulled me away, Jorge just gazed Alex and My relationship.
“Don’t pull him to hard Alex” Jorge said “you touch him I will make your murder look like a suicide” Jorge said as he pulled me to him.
“Andy, you ever gonna forgive me?” Alex said…

“Babe, I forgave you so long ago… when are you gonna forgive yourself?” I said and Alex just cried.
“I don’t hold you against everything you’ve done, I forgive you”

Alex crumbled to his knees, crying… he crawled on his knees and he looked at Jorge.

“I never hurt you like that Andres” He said as he bowed his head on my lap.
“Nah… you didn’t hurt me like that” I said “you slammed me against walls, you bruised my face, you punched me so hard in my ribs, you broke one. You ripped my hair, you were a fucking animal” I said. ” I forgive you for all of it, ‘cause you will never do it again and that’s my promise” I said as Alex cried and Jorge just wrapped his arm around my waist.
“Tresor I’m so sorry” Alex cried.
“I don’t need your sorry babe” I said rubbing the top of his head. “I forgave you so long ago, I love you” I said as I kissed his head. “You are fortunate—you don’t get me twice in your life, but here’s you’re second chance” I said as he cried on my lap and Jorge pulled me into him.
“Boys like me, don’t come very frequently… I don’t think you’re lucky to have me” I said as I felt my throat in knots “I think that you need to understand I don’t need you, I want you—whatever you think I need, I have” I said and he just ugly cried and Jorge just pulled me into him. “I will always be Andrés, with or without you… and you need me; don’t you ever forget that” I said and I felt my eyes tearing up. “You love me, you want me in your life—great!” I said standing up. “I don’t fucking need you and you need to man the fuck up and forgive yourself for treating me the way you did” I said as I walked to the kitchen and poured Gin in a cup.

The thing is that I know my worth… I know that if you’re stupid—some insecure person will treat you exactly like you feel; stupid. They will abuse you, just like Jorge my chest, my wrists, my neck, my face was bruised. I felt so insignificant that I kept quiet and I learned how to use makeup to conceal all of those physical bruises. I always pretended like it never happened, or it was my fault I was beat up. I remember one time I went to the Sephora in Queens (mind you I live in Manhattan) and I was frantically searching for concealer…

This woman came to me and was like “can I help you with something sir?” And I jumped up and was like “oh no! I’m just browsing”… and she saw my face and her mouthed made a seething noise.
“You’re looking for concealer?” She asked and she held my hand and I felt so embarrassed. I immediately said “yeah. I just need concealer. I’m trying to cover up these rashes” she tightened her lips and swiped my face with her hands—I knew she knew it wasn’t a fucking rash!
“Yeah?” She said “Okay, well, let me show you a palette for your rash. Okay?” And she dragged me through tarte, kat von D and Laura Mercier.

She sat me on a chair and gently wiped off the makeup off my face… I tried not to flinch, because my face was hurting… and I could see that she was upset and it upset me… “yeah, these rashes are really deep, so if you mix this green and yellow on this palette , you can neutralize and then use this concealer—it won’t be so bad” she said as she gently dabbed makeup on my face. I felt so ashamed and embarrassed.
“Yeah well I just got rid of my bed, it’s like bedbug bites” I said.
“Ohhh” She said swiping a beauty blender over my face “yeah, bed bugs are awful, you should get rid of everything, clean it out—just start new” She said and she smiled sadly at me “my mom had bedbugs for many years and I did too, I didn’t bruise like you, but your skin is super sensitive” she said. I felt a tear drip down my face. “Oh sorry the air is fucked up in here, my eyes are just dripping” and she smiled and patted my eyes with a tissue. “Yeah, it’s okay—you’re a guy, you’re not use to people working around your eyes. The air is really dry and the lights” she said.
She caked the make up on my face, all of the color correcting concealers before I put my actual concealer on… as she walked me to the register with all of the makeup for my face she stoped being a makeup artist, stopped being a Sephora sales associate and she said “don’t let a mothafuckin’ nigga put a hand on you, I know you think you deserve it, so did I! I wish I could help you baby, but you need to know that I don’t know you at all and I will be here—my name is Sonia, I live in Rego Park” and when she said that I just started crying and crying so hard on her shoulder and she just held me.

It’s so fucking embarrassing being physically abused… it’s so absolutely, positively, completely embarrassing to be abused....all of the excuses I said when people would see my face or see me caked up with makeup and ask me “what’s with the makeup? It’s thick” and I’d shut down and become defensive… it was my fucking secret… I didn’t want to be a man and tell everyone that I was being beat up and feel emasculated. I’d be on YouTube looking up “how to hide a bruise” but because I was so ashamed my search was “how to hide a hickey” and I would just click other videos and tutorials on hiding bruises, but in my search if I was beat to death; it would be “how to hide a hickey” not “how to apply makeup to conceal a punch to the face” or “how to conceal the bruise fingers cause around my neck”

Alex has been forgiven… he’s been forgiven for a long, long time… because I forgave myself for allowing myself to be so stupid… if he wants to live in permanent atonement—then do you bro… you have to forgive yourself, it’s not my forgiveness you seek, it’s the forgiveness you need to give yourself.

Jorge has all of these bruises from David. And he’s so ashamed of them and I whip out that palette and I sit with him as he excuses David…

“Oh Andy that’s from a rug burn. That’s from the time a frisbee hit my neck. My skin is ultra sensitive and I used a bar soap so now I have a rash” Jorge says. And in my head I’m just like “yeah my skin became ultra sensitive when my man started beating the fuck out of me, and I’d just cover up for him”

No shade Alexander should fucking cry. I forgive him, I’m stupidly inlove With him… but “I’m sorry” is a selfish act, the shit happened already, you can’t take back the action, but want to make amends for the history—nigga you want me to excuse your past so you can feel better about your present, but I don’t fucking live for you!!!