Lee,
You're quite right - it is easier to give advice than to need it.
Doesn't change the fact that some things are universal.
I forgot that your father had died recently. Losing a parent is way up there on the list of things which we only wish on our worst enemies. I don't believe in the modern bullshit called 'closure', but it is very true that you need time to cope with someone close to you dying. Lots of time. You would be shallow if that were not the case.
Still, it helps to talk to somebody about these things, it really does. Not to bring 'closure', not to 'get past it', not 'to work through it', but simply because it is such a sucker-punch and talking helps.
I don't know Cleveland, but I have spent some time in Tennessee. Lots of things to like about that state, some truly wonderful people there.
Not, however, the place I would expect to find happiness as a gay man. Is Dixie important to you? Then you might want to consider other places in the South where being gay is not lower on the social scale than, how does my friend from the deep South put it...oh, yeah 'she's just a come-here with a know-it-all mouth'.
Actually, she usually adds, 'bless her heart', but we will leave that aside.
You mentioned the holidays. OK, got news for you. They frequently suck. Take my family (please!).
My brother's contingent are all red-neck, 200% patriotic-red-blooded-love her or leave her-fundamentalist Christians. And that is just their positive side.
All have zillions of little kids they can't afford, all the kids, the moment they hit 12 or 13 (some are late bloomers) get pregnant/land in jail/both at once.
Most can, however, read...and that is good, because my number one Christmas present from year to year is books on how to 'cure' my homosexual perversion/lifestyle and 'come to Jesus'. Who, as we all know is also red-haired, green-eyed and looks like a bad day in the Scottish highlands meets Eire.
Dinner is spent with the various and assorted young folks inspecting them there 'foreign' foods set before them. The peach cobbler with real whipped cream I baked year before last was rejected because 'the cool-whip tasted funny...'
I have a picture of my partner in a big overstuffed chair. There is my cat hiding behind him, the push-nose is in his arms with his face buried (if I can't see them, they can't see me) and a 120lb (all muscle) dog is trying really really hard to convince the cat to let her hide with her. All four of them have the same look of terror on their faces: One of the wee bairns has discovered the cat's toy stash and is hitting the manger scene with a plastic contraption which has balls you can spin around, but never remove. The cat tired of it after she figured it out...took one minute. The kid is furious because she can't get the balls to rotate...
There will be a fist-fight or three, somebody's car will get keyed or worse, the sheriff will show up (or the cops), my parents will give everyone enough money to shore up GM and Chrysler...and they will all toddle off to go visit themselves on the other relations, leaving my parents, my partner and me with a house which will take us six solid hours to put back together.
No Christmas carols in German or Latin (that ain't American), no turning the TV off while presents are being ripped out of their boxes...
So, yeah, I can see how you would miss that.
Sheesh. Honey, get up off your ass, march right on down to the hospital or food bank or church and volunteer to do something for folks this coming season. There will be a use for you.
And who knows, there might even be a nice guy of the hom-0-sex-ual persuasion wondering why there aren't any nice guys in Cleveland.
