Dear Yixin,
It is that time of the year again. When your presence is missed. I remember celebrating our birthdays together in the support group we were in. Your birthday was 4 days after mine, even as you were 4 years older than me.
I’m writing to let you know I’ve almost made it. I’ve almost made it past 34, which was when you passed. Never thought this day would arrive. But I’ll be 35 at the end of this week.
Yixin, I miss you. You were my first gay christian friend at Choices. I remember the first night we met, after the support group session was over, we hung out at Tiong Bahru Plaza’s MacDonald’s until the last train was about to depart.
It was the first time I’d met another person who had a schizophrenic parent, and shared a similar childhood.
You were so cheerful, so full of joy, sharing one funny anecdote after another.
I never did know how chronically depressed you were.
Strange isn’t it, how God truly has a sense of humour. You, my first gay Christian friend, my ex, who gave me my first gay relationship, and myself; all 3 of us gay girls in that tiny little support group, with 3 other facilitators.
You had different aims than me. I sought friendship. You sought conversion. You thought conversion therapy was your panacea. I guess it wasn’t.
I now have a new girlfriend. I wish you were alive to meet her. She is kind, generous and entertaining. You’d both get along really well and I’m certain you’d be charmed.
But you never did embrace this part of yourself, did you?
“I’ll never be normal,” you wrote in your suicide letter.
But you were so fearfully and wonderfully made, my friend.
Someone once told me many gay people, christians, nay, Singaporeans even, never gave a fuck about what society thought of them. But that you gave too many fucks.
I used to give too many fucks too. Until you died. Then I knew I was next unless I changed.
And change I have.
I am a different person than I was 5 years ago.
Out from the ashes I rise again.
“Phoenix Rising” is incidentally the name of my memoir that I’ll be releasing next Monday. It’ll be dedicated to you, and to every closeted evangelical christian out there too. To let them know that they are never alone.
You felt so alone.
I did too.
Now I am surrounded by queer affirming friends, Christian, Buddhist, Muslim, Hindu, atheist, agnostic, allies, and more.
I am thankful for whoever’s running the universe who has kept me alive.
I am thankful for this simple, mundane life of mine.
I am thankful for each sunrise I get to enjoy.
New and exciting possibilities are slowly opening up, but I remain grateful for the Earl Grey I drink, for the prata I eat. For these are simple luxuries you’ll never get to enjoy now that you are in a different realm.
I wonder how you’re doing.
Hope you’re getting on alright.
Will see you again soon my friend, next time I swing by the columbarium once more.
Rest in power.
Your friend,
Rachel