A Case of Fratricide

I had this friend named Gary. We met when I first came to San Francisco and became fast friends. Gary was so very different from me. He came from an extremely affluent family so his manner and lifestyle bore all the trappings associated with that type of upbringing. He had a "proper and civilized" relationship with his parents, who were not given to emotional expression of any sort. Gary was very unhappy and for most of the time I knew him, he was in constant search of that which would bring him happiness. In his journey of self-discovery, he even did a stint as a Jesuit Priest, but that failed to bring him the internal comfort he sought.

Gary was an intense and intense-looking man, exacerbated by his bald head, deep-set sorrowful eyes, and a very large frame, enhanced by a pre-occupation with weight-training and physical development. Despite this appearance, he was very demure, if that's a proper word to apply to a man. Mind you, he was not effeminate, just sensitive, cultured, and refined in his demeanor. It was Gary who introduced me to opera and ballet ...although with my love of both dance and classical music, it was inevitable that I'd gravitate to these venues.

Gary considered himself a gay man, but he was very dissatisfied with the label, the lifestyle, and the social interactions he had with other gay men. As shallow as it sounds -- and is -- many gay man, as do most men and women, have types of people to which they're attracted. The problem that Gary faced stemmed from the dichotomy of who he was and what he looked like. He was a big "butch" looking guy with a very delicate soul. The two just didn't work together, and this incompatibility cause him much anguish. This presented no problem for me since ours was a platonic relationship.

I say all this to paint of picture both physical and emotional of the person Gary was, the person who was my very dear friend.

Now here's were it goes weird.

All of a sudden ...to me, not to Gary, since he'd been thinking about this for some time... Gary tells me that he's considering gender reassignment. There are some males who, despite their external shell, are obviously female. Gary was not one, at least not in my perception. So you can see that this came out of the blue and knocked me for a loop. We discussed it at length, and I came to know how he really felt inside, how he'd only just manage the courage to admit and discuss it. My fear was that this was just another attempt, a desperate attempt, in pursuit of the happiness which had eluded him. My fear was that if this too failed, he'd be left in a most unfortunate state. After much consideration and discussion, he convinced me that this was what he really wanted ...not that he needed my approval, but convincing me was a way of re-assuring himself.

And so he began with the process.

Over several years, he gradually transformed his body into one with a more feminine appearance ...which was no easy task, considering the massive, muscular frame he'd had. The final step was the gender reassignment surgery. After that was done, Andrea closed the door on [her] existence as Gary, and would only refer to this previous incarnation as her dead brother.

Now here's were the problem comes in.

Supposedly, only the physical was changed, and the inner person was still the same. This may have been true, but my friend was a male (with a masculine energy). This new person was not. Oddly enough, this seemed to matter a great deal. My inability to relate to this new person resulted in the dissolution of our friendship as I pulled further and further away. Was I that shallow? I surely wasn't homophobic ...or whatever is the equivalent transgender term. But try as I did, I just couldn't accept [Andrea] as someone I knew and cared about. In fact, I actually grew to resent her for killing off my friend Gary who I miss to this day.

Quote of the Week: "A lost friendship provokes a feeling of absence, a feeling of a life now changed."