A few years ago, I was at my Mom's birthday party in La Union. My Grandfather (well, he wasn't really my grandfather but you get the point), who was still alive and at the time was there. He lived in Canada but was in the country at that time.
During the party, I had a guest with me. To the world, he was my bestfriend. but in reality, he was more than that.
After the party, when all of the guests had left, I was at the house and so was my Grandfather. I don't think I've ever told this story to anyone, not even my Mom. He called me and said he wanted to talk to me.
"The guy who's with you, I know he's not your bestfriend," he said.
I looked at him confused while trying to hide my fear that my cover had just been blown.
"I know he's your boyfriend. I can see it. I can sense it. You don't have to hide the truth."
I was silent. I did not know how to react. I did not know what to say.
"It's fine," he said. "You don't have to say anything."
I smiled and said goodnight.
A few years after that, I found the courage to come out to my mother and she welcomed me with open arms. She said that she knew since I was young.
Looking back, I wish I had the courage that night to tell my grandfather the truth. He asked me many times after that and every time, I would deny it. He passed away a month before I came out. At that time, I wished he were alive to hear the news. I think I should mention that that grandfather of mine was gay, and a proud one at that. He was one of the reasons why my Mom loves gay men.
At that time, I felt a sigh of relief. At least, there was one person who seemed fine with me being gay.