“She doesn’t know” by Kirk Billings

I really wasn’t gay.

(June 20th, 2024 – Morning)

This morning we made love. Lacey and I. That’s certainly not something a gay man would ever do. And we’ve been doing that for about four years now.

I hate that she’s ever been with anyone else.

II. Andante commodamente from Kalinnikov’s Symphony Number 1 plays.

I can’t stand it.

It’s the absolute worst part of my existence.

But she doesn’t know that. Not really.

When I said things like, “I’ve loved Jack Kennedy my whole life.” I didn’t mean it to be taken as the deep statement of undying love it sounds like. Like we were predestined soulmates. …There’s really no way I could have smiled at his wedding to someone else the way I did if I loved him in any real way at all. …That’s impossible. …But I didn’t stray from the appearance of evil. I said, “I’ve loved Jack Kennedy my whole life.” And…had I been bisexual or pansexual it’d be sad to Lacey…but she’d be intellectually astute and wise enough to know how complicated humans are and she’d still venture to wonder if I could love her. As a ghost. …But I’ve told her I was straight. Because I was. …And that’s floored her. …I was dulled and depressed my whole life to some degree. So to me the meager amount of affection I mistakenly had for Jack Kennedy was…love. Whatever love was. …And it wasn’t romantic or sexual really. But…some platonic fondness I imagined was love. Well…platonic fondness and my heartfelt loyalty. It wasn’t real love. It was nothing. …In the last year or so of my life I began to realize I was straight and had profoundly ruined my life. But…it felt as though it was all too late. So…I chose death.

This morning when I made love with Lacey…I said something similar to her about my life and my love. Because in truth I loved her my whole life. …You can’t actually share people happily the way I was with Jack. And I don’t think it’s possible to share people at all. …But given the way I acted and the thoughtless statements I made in carelessness and deep depression…I’ve had to share her. Because she doesn’t trust herself in that way. So Harold Loeb, Louis and Michael and Elliott linger. Sometimes Joe and Joe Jr. even try. Jack himself does. …Because she’s not been loved and she’s been very badly treated in the most lovely, upper class, polite but heartless way. So…she doesn’t believe in Disney World, metaphorically speaking.

She’s a dear soul. Extraordinarily sweet. Extremely forgiving. …Enduring. Profoundly loving. …But…despite her good hearted nature…she doesn’t believe in…exceptions. Exceptions outside of what science allows that is. …So…she thinks it’s technically possible I didn’t love Jack at all and said stuff otherwise in folly…but it’s very difficult for her to fully embrace that. Just as she has lovely love and faith in Christ that I exist…and love her more than I could ever love anyone or have…she doesn’t feel it. She doesn’t let herself. And I’ve contributed to that. So…she takes it all very seriously but she doesn’t feel it. …She feels it. She…literally sleeps with me. But…she doesn’t have happiness. Or joy. Or hope. Or peace. Or excitement.

Instead she has…Kalinnikov. And when she drinks she weeps over me.

Lacey actually does break into a posh 19th Century Scottish accent. And…that’s her temperament, regardless of reincarnation. Passionate, deep…brave…and extremely beautiful. Wise. But…not at all like Jack. It’s been hellish seeing people try to make her him. …He slept around with the worst heart intent. She slept with Harold Loeb…because I devastated her. And he took her in a private plane in the 1920’s and held her while she cried over me. And he’s friends with Scott and Zelda who she deeply loves. Louis…loves her too. Louis and her…have Minnesota very much in common.

Elliott understands her. Elliott can make her cry. In the best way. She’s heard his voice. And he’s dead.

But none of those men love her the way I do. She belongs to me. But getting those words and thoughts out are nearly impossible.

“Lem. I’m bisexual. …But as a born again Christian I’ve restrained from sex with women. Do you think maybe you were bisexual too?” says a living Christian bisexual woman.

If I did I destroyed myself. …But no. I really was straight. I genuinely faked being gay…and…I didn’t believe in bisexuality anyway. …It would have taken true love to help me see who I really was. And she wasn’t there. There’s no evidence that proves I wasn’t secretly 100% straight. Because I was 100% straight.

So…everyday I’m with her. In love. And she’s madly in love with me. …I’m in love with her. And that’ll never change. We’ll only love each other more. But…she doesn’t know that.

She doesn’t believe in Disneyland. Not anymore. …She believes in war. She believes in God. She believes in love. She believes in science. And family. She doesn’t want to get hurt…and be made a fool of again. She could die of crying she worries if she truly let herself cry as she could.

I am Kirk Billings. They called me Lem. But my name was actually Kirk. …What’s Lacey’s real name? It’s legally Karrie. But…that’s not her name. She goes by Lacey. Who’s her real father? See! …She doesn’t know. She’s Lacey. She’s Karrie legally. But what would Tom have named her? Grace? Kay? Possibly. Possibly Lacey. …But as much as she loves Tom as her father…he’s dead too. And what if he adopted her? Right? …Actually…what if he didn’t? …Proving that scientifically is becoming more difficult. Her legal father remarried and her legal mother and her aren’t on good terms. She had planned to do DNA testing on both of them. That’s infuriating to her. …So she has less hope.

But…there’s Christ. And so…if I’m a ghost not a demon…and I was straight and she doesn’t understand that really…it’s okay. It’s okay in Christ. If we’re in love…I need to know that. And as her man…if I know…with Christ that’s enough.

So! Keep that in mind when you hate her. She doesn’t know. Yes…she technically understands. But she doesn’t know.

If there’s reincarnation she’s stuck in the moment she found out I died. And in her mind I went off, deeply betrayed her and loved someone else and threw her into Hell. And when I insist otherwise even while many of you insist to her that she’s Jack…she…believes me. She BELIEVES ME. …Why!? Because she knows me. Through Christ. Regardless of reincarnation or not SHE KNOWS ME BETTER THAN ANYONE ALIVE. And…she knows me better than anyone other than God. So…you can’t fool her. About me…or herself…in a deep way. But…even if you did she’d still have Christ. …The thing is…it’s awful. And she doesn’t know. She’s…far too sad.

So…it’s a disaster. But many of you didn’t and don’t understand or believe that. There’s Jesus. Don’t forget that. But…it’s a fallen world.

“Lem…she’s stuck in the throws of realizing you’re dead. In World War I. Even metaphorically speaking.” says a living witch.

“Yes!! Terrified she’s lost me.” says Lem.

“Sweetie…she’s not coming out of that easily until she’s dead.” says the witch kindly. “You really did confuse us.” The witch weeps listening to Kalinnikov.

“I can’t accept that-“ says Lem weeping himself but trying not to. He calms himself, “It’s not that I can’t accept that I sent her into a horrible place. It’s that I lost her. Not really…but…

She’s not one to trifle with. She’s not Jack Kennedy. She’s like me. …But…not. So…a part of her heart is gone. Until I can be with her or convince her otherwise…it’s as if I died. And so she’s…being pushed to remarry. Fall in love again. And Louis, and Harold and Michael are…loving but also rightfully angry with me. Even if it’s just metaphorically speaking.

So…she doesn’t believe it. But…I’m devastated still. That she can think of anyone but me. And it’s my fault. But…that just makes it worse because she doesn’t want to love anyone but me. And she trusts me. So how could I have done this!? But…I was so damn confused. Really. And vulnerable.

I guess…she’s right. But it’s my own thought originally. As long as I’m clear and we’re both in Christ…it’ll be fine. *I smile slightly*

I was a huge man. And there was a man who was that big with a similar voice to mine in Duluth. …Older. He flirted with Lacey. And…felt very guilty about it. But…he made her smile. Because he reminded her of me. …I’m going to have to accept that…she loves me. Me. Even if I’m a giant. And it’ll make her sad…not to have all of me. I worry at times. But…

“This was your decision and only you can solve this!!” yells Lacey’s son about something else, even though he’s incredibly upset.

“True.” says Tsar Putin. “Lem! Don’t take it personally. Right? …It’s just sex. To her. If you’re with her. …It only means something to the men. And they’ll get over it. Men do. You know?

Look…it’s just pleasure. Like getting high. …No big deal. …It’s nothing. And you’re a nobody.” says Tsar Putin, in tears, but also joking to make an argument.

And at that Andante commodamente ends.

Prince William smiles. Laughs. “It’ll be okay. Really.” he says to Lem.

Diana weeps over her sons because she loves them.

“I don’t want to join you!!” says King Charles II jokingly to Diana. “Not quite yet!”

“I see your meaning. And you’re right.” says Lem.

“Then love her!” yells Tsar Putin.

“I do. It’s hard to express my pain without her experiencing rejection. …Thank you for being so kind to us.” says Lem to Tsar Putin.

“Pray for me Lem!” says Tsar Putin. “Please!”

“We all do. And will.” says a dead woman.

What the American media falls to understand is the Russian war. It’s not us.

Later.

I still wasn’t his soulmate. That was fabricated after I died. …We did appear close. He was a man I was trying to have as my best friend. But trying doesn’t make it so. …No. I tolerated his flaws. …And then as I aged I began to hate him. And by the time I was dead I couldn’t stand him. And I don’t meant heated hatred, like something close love. …I wanted to be normal and I didn’t believe it was possible but I wanted to get close. And so I tried to make what I had with Jack into a normal heterosexual relationship as much as possible, because he wanted me to be in his life and…I reasoned making the best of it was all I could do. Right? You just keep making the best of things. …It was only in my last years that I fully understood what had happened.

I’ve answered these questions before but we hear people wondering. So, no. See…I felt…shame. After Jack died. I felt shameful and sad about the meaningless of my life. My deep depression after he died wasn’t because I was so madly in love with him that I lost my reason for being. Yet again: there’s no way I could have been so happy at his wedding if I was in love with him. …No. It was because I worried my life really was over. Not because of how I loved him, but rather because of how meaningless my life had become. …I was older. I was well into my 40’s. I never had had kids. My career was lackluster. …What did I have to show for things? Nothing. …And the last vestige of any…meaning…had just died. …If I had realized I was straight, really realized it…I’d have gone into shock. Real shock. Not the way I responded when Jack died. Which was some surprise but…silencing shock.

The thing is…I was not a loose man. I took sex very seriously. So…I wasn’t one to sleep with women just to test the waters, so to speak. …If Lacey had been there I’d have been myself and felt normal. I’d have known. …Actually if I’d married the right woman like my family wanted me to…I might have realized it too. And that’s wha to figured out in my last year or so. I just needed a real chance. But Jack made sure I never got one. All of his family did. They used me. I wasn’t just some mooch. They used me. Like a counselor, a slave, an accountant…a financial planner…a babysitter. They took advantage of me. And my mom knew that and it ruined her life too. If my father hadn’t died…it’s possible none of it would have ever happened.

At any rate…just remember that not everything you read on Wikipedia accurate. It’s based on popular understandings and opinions. And often it can be true…but in my case it’s not completely. I wasn’t gay. Your friends can’t truly confirm that like it’s an objective scientific fact. That’s far too personal and personally subjective. It’s actually very suspicious that anyone does in regard to me. It should scare you a little, actually. …No, I was straight…and very confused from childhood sexual abuse. And…Red Fay knew that…and may have assumed I was bisexual. But no, I was straight. …I repressed my heterosexuality not the other way around. …I lived a very weird and disturbing life. And it will possibly never be understood as such.

There’s nothing you can bring up that I don’t have an answer for. …Lacey’s my…microphone. This part of her story is fact.

We are in love. I’m dead. …It’s tragic. And there isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t mourn her life with her. …Because…I’m real. And I’m not going to be happy if she’s with someone else. …So…even if he’s an okay guy…I know I’m real. And…I know how much we love each other. So…ironically…unlike with Jack…I’m not at all tolerant of other people. Because I’m not a like that. That was me being straight and not giving a damn. …So…she could date someone but I’d seduce her back if there were any flaws. And no, she’s prayed about it. I’m not a demon. You should pray too. Truly. Pray to Christ to save her from me if I’m at all operating outside of His will for her life or in general or if I’m a demon.

…But if I’m not a demon…I’m Lem Billings. Thee famous Kirk LeMoyne Billings. And…I’m not supposed to be talking to you. But in the last 10 years Lacey’s life dove off a cliff.

“So…she’s not supposed to be engaging with dead people…but if she is…part of the consequence for her actions is that they now interact with her almost as if they’re not entirely dead and so she’s stuck in a committed relationship with a ghost, if you’re a ghost.” says Jonah Wiley.

“That was her choice.” says someone.

Later.

We just went on Instagram and saw a post by two liars…in Great Britain who claim to be in a gay relationship. They both are into interior design. And the one named Jack is very possibly heavily influenced by me. They seemed to be trying to recreate my aesthetic in the 1930’s in the photos of Jack and myself in the snow.

More on why they’re liars later. …For now…let’s just say that they don’t understand thee aesthetic itself. …LOTS of straight young men looked like me. LOTS of bisexual young men looked like Jack. …And it’s a classic male pastime to play outside and roughhouse. Boys play with each other that way at times and it’s not necessarily homosexual. When people were more innocent in the 1930’s they all had that look. Mimicking it and making it solely homosexual is a tragedy. Because it’s not really a homosexual aesthetic. …It’s akin to making eyeglasses and curly hair homosexual, which at times I almost think some dumbass homosexuals have tried to do.

*fuming I calm myself down*

Look…that’s what we all looked like. Stop trying to make it something it’s not.

Now…as for the physical aspect and the way that that serves as cover for the homosexual activity of two young men touching each other: Yes. Of course that was Jack’s intent. Of course that was our photographer’s intent. I had no idea what was going to happen that day. …It wasn’t my idea to take those photos in the snow. It was Jack’s idea. He loved taking sexual photos with me where he made me uncomfortable…and then he’d turn around and switch and pretend it was all in my head. That he wasn’t gay at all. And that I was delusional. And that he was only playing along to be a pal. Or that he was humoring me and I should be grateful. Like…I wanted to be touched. So…if he did it in photos and made me squirm…as that wasn’t his usual mode of physicality with me, we’ll call it…I should be glad. And why would he do that? Because if he did it without a camera it’d seem real. But if it did in front of a camera then it was just him being…a clown. A sexual clown. Or…showing off for friends. Or he was doing it for me, he’d claim. But…he’d never act sexually aggressive without a camera unless he was outright raping me or…cornering me. So…I went along with it, but it made me uncomfortable. I smiled. Because I still could make myself smile on that situation. But I was actually very uncomfortable that day. …I didn’t anticipate how homosexual the photos were going to be of us. I went along with it but I did feel weird the whole damn time, even as I smiled.

Now…how are those two young men liars? Well…because they’re probably both bisexual. BISEXUAL. NOT GAY.

Why is that obnoxious? Because they’re faking being gay too.

Yes. They’re probably faking being homosexuals. …Just because they’re in a homosexual relationship doesn’t prove they’re not both at least slightly attracted to women. …And honestly…it’s very chauvinistic and degenerate to use one’s homosexual tendencies to hurt men or women. Men who can’t be sure they’re heterosexual but are and can relate to you…and women who might find you attractive or who you might be attracted to and are lying about it. They’re gaslighting everyone who can tell.

Maybe they prefer men. But being dishonest and heavily emphasizing their homosexuality as to make it seem like they’re gay is possibly evil hearted. And right now…I’m beyond tired of it. Because even though they’re faking it most possibly…they’d never admit to that easily. And yet if they did…my explanation for my life would be far more believable. Because it suggests that one really can fake being gay. Bisexual men can do it. Straight men can do it.

It’s very common for straight identifying people and gay identifying people to actually be bisexual. They lie.

I’m straight and was and so is Lacey. But for me part of the reason I was so troubled was because of lying bisexuals. If Jack had just openly admitted he was attracted to men…I’d have felt…safe…and possibly been able to find a way to maneuver my way away from him. Which I imagine is why he didn’t do it. But he held on to me with that lie. Not held on to me…as a lover but held on to me like I was being held hostage.

Later.

That’s Lacey.

That’s some random woman on Instagram.

Here’s the thing. Lacey doesn’t look as old.

Why? It’s not just her face. …What if…it’s how disconnected she is? Not in a narcissistic way. In a spiritual way. People don’t age the same when they’re dead.

I’m not lying. I really was straight. Like for real straight.

Later.

If you’re reading this or hearing me in your spirit…you’ll have to deal with what I am saying. If ghosts exist Lacey isn’t the one saying this. I am.

-Lem Billings 2024

Later.

Jacob and the Stone (Piano Version) by Alokei plays.

One of my second cousins got married recently this summer. …And it’s funny. Her husband doesn’t look…madly in love with her. She looks almost madly in love. But he does look…happy. And she looks happy too. …He looks happy. They look…sublimely happy. …I doubt their soulmates…but they are certainly in love. Very in love. Deeply in love.

They look as if at night they rest peacefully, blissfully even…in each other’s arms. And that’s a lot in this life. A lot.

I don’t have that. And I doubt I ever will. And it’s…like a living Hell. It’s my own slice of actual Hell.

*sigh*

Some people are poor. Through no fault of their own. I’ve always known that. Some people die young through no fault of their own. Some people are abandoned by their parents and raised on the streets. And some people like me never may ever experience real human love almost at all.

People I know are are jealous, spiteful, cruel, cold…and they hate me for being “better than them” possibly. But they’re too damn self important to love me. Is that it? I’m not a terrible person. I’m just not. …And I’m extraordinarily beautiful and intelligent. …And well-bred. So…logically speaking maybe people just can’t stand me for petty, sad reasons.

Hmm.

“I CAN’T!!” screams Harold Loeb. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t punch you your fucking face!!!” he yells at Lem.

“Was he actually straight?” says Lacey, sweetly.

Harold collects himself. “Yes.” says Harold.

“He was.” says Scott.

“But those photos of him and Jack in the snow really do look far too much like wedding photos. As do others.” says Harold. “And you don’t have anything.”

“Does that happen sometimes?” asks Lacey.

“What!?? I’ve robbed her of a life!? No! How does that affect me!?” whines JFK in 2012 to God and angels in Heaven.

“I’m not going to let you punch me in the face. I shouldn’t think you deserve to have to do that.” says Lem to Harold.

“Lem. What does she have!?

And no…Lacey it’s unusual. Usually people have someone. But there are plenty of people who don’t. Usually they know that though. …You were cruelly lied to. You thought you had a mother who actually loved you. That’s profoundly cruel. And you really were and are an unusually tender hearted person.” says Harold.

“Her mother betrayed her!??” yells JFK to God in confusion, stupidly repeating back what he’s being told like a fucking idiot.

And at that Lem sits in snow and thinks through his photo and understands finally entirely why she has slept with other men.

“I was never in love with you. But I made it look like I was. And then I said so later. …And after what her mom put her through…this was…unspeakably evil.” says Lem to JFK. “Because I can’t demand she trust me that much. It’s amazing she even knows I exist.”

“At all?” says Lacey to Lem.

And at that Harold Loeb punches Lem in the face.

“Well there goes any Kennedy election ever again.” says a dead woman in the Met. “Lacey…if we’re real they’re done for. Really.”

“Aren’t they already?” says Lacey.

“Yes. But this time…it’s different. They’re…not just old news. They’re…toast.” she says.

“What the fuck!??” shrieks a demon in horror.

“That hurt. Harold is a good fighter.

No. I wasn’t in love with him. Really. …But it looks like it too much. Even if I was cringing. And forcing my smiles.

And…this false sense of entitlement and privilege and truth people who hate you have has got to go. You’ve been experiencing that your whole life. Even from your mother. …Everyone always seems to think you owe them something. Like you’re a horrible thief who stole their everything. …And that’s a terrific lie.

How would you know how much I suffered? You wouldn’t. I…smiled whenever I could manage it. …And if I’d been in love I’d not have been able to at Jack’s wedding. Nor almost at all.

And honestly….why doesn’t anyone ever deal with that? It’s like extremely frustrating. How do people make sense of that? How? How!? Go on. I’m waiting. That was a row of real, happy smiles too. And no…there’s no explanation. There isn’t. I’ve checked. …It always shows in some subtle way.

*sigh*

Lacey…is sad because she’s accountable to herself. And she actually loves herself. And she’s sad for herself. Love really was what she was looking forward to most in life. She’s great at being alone. But…there’s a lot to be said for love. Especially when your life has been cold and lonely already.

But Jack is heartless. He’s a heartless cold bastard. He screwed over Jesus alive and if there’s Purgatory he did it in death as well. …We were not soulmates. I was not in love with him. …I was fooled and…tragic. I’m sorry.” says Lem.

“Lem.

I’m a gay man who was sexually abused and who was actually gay. Hey.

Ahh…yeah. So…I had the same problem as you. But…in reverse. I doubted my gay orientation because I thought maybe it was just a byproduct of being molested. And nope. Those are…totally unrelated. As you know. Being molested doesn’t make you gay.

Ahh…so…it’s really hard for me not to wonder if you and Lacey were reincarnated. Because I like that. It makes me happy. …Even if she did die…she had you. And you had her. And I have to think you were both happy. Like really happy sometimes.

Lacey…tell me the truth. NO LIES. …When you first saw Lem…at 12…and got a crush on him…did you think he was in love with Jack?” asks a man.

“No. I thought he was…rebellious. And…fun. And intelligent. …And possibly sad. And…no. I didn’t think he was gay. …At all.

*she thinks*

I thought he seemed sad.” says Lacey.

“Okay. So not sexual. Just…playful. And…sad.” he says. “Lacey…babe…what if he was?”

“I’ve been lied to too much.” says Lacey.

“Yeah.” says the man. “What if…you were right though? No corrections of you this time. People love to correct you.”

“Then I had no business trying to get into politics. I should have gone into art. Art history. …Although writing is my first love.” says Lacey.

“Why?” he says.

“I was never going to be able to stand their stupidity. …It’s not that they’re evil that bothers me. Although that’s awful. …It’s their profound stupidity. …People read way too much into things. And they get false hope. And have…tragic beliefs that they’re going to make something great happen for people. And that’s…almost never the case. …No. I’d have sequestered myself to art.” says Lacey. “And hidden away somewhere.”

“I’m sorry I died.” says Michael Rockefeller to Lacey.

Lacey almost cries. “Is there really nobody left!??” says Lacey to Lem.

Lem looks at her. “No one.”

Jacob and the Stone by Emile Mosseri plays.

“I can’t do this. If that’s true…you have to help me see beyond the grave more. Because I can’t go on for another 40 years like this. It’s physically impossible!” says Lacey. “I’ll get cancer. Or something.”

She thinks.

“And it’ll be bad.” she adds.

“She’s talking to God not just me.” says Lem. “And so…we’re off to bed. Together. As per usual. …And so I repeat myself: If I’m a ghost…deal…with what…I’ve said.”

-(Again) Lem Billings, 2024