I knew Marcus was gay after a party I had at my home a few weeks ago. I invited the entire group over for drinks and some good old fashioned seafood (my treat. Our bonding time).

When a song from Beyoncé's Lemonade album came on, Marcus popped his ass to the floor like there was no tomorrow, getting everybody's attention with his sizzling dance moves. Despite the cheers at his obvious skills, my husband looked at me like, "Chile, him fruiter than fruity pebbles."

Once the song from the album went off, it was like Marcus was his thug self again, masculine mannerisms returned with a vengeance.

I never quite looked at him the same ever again.

Marcus was as masculine as they came. He was tall, fun and witty, but his severe anger issues wound him up in prison for six years. He was convicted of attempted murder, for assault. He allegedly beat his father into a coma with his fists after his dad discovered that he was gay.

When his father confronted him about it, Marcus went into a blinding rage.

His participation in my group was ordered by the court as part of his release, even though a letter from his father's doctor was enough for the Judge to overturn his assault conviction and cleared him of all murder charges, but he was slammed with two years probation and anger management classes.

And we actually became quite close. Jonathan absolutely adored him.

I never lived by labels and didn't give a shit about society's view on gay relationships. My husband and I defined our own, on our terms, no ifs, ands or buts. My dad's view of my sexuality would always haunt me. He was back in prison. He was convicted of money laundering.

Once all the letters were written and placed in the wicker basket, I passed them out, instructing everyone to keep them sealed. Open them at home. Write a response for homework and seal it in an envelope with the person's name in the center. When we meet in a week, we'll open the letters and read anonymous responses.

I had a lot of my mind today. Why, I didn't know. I had a great day thus far, but for some reason something in my heart wouldn't allow me to fully let go and enjoy today for what it was.

My husband brought me lunch and sat with me for a bit. We were great, but that still didn't put me in great spirits. Maybe it was a phase I was going through. We all had our days, but once class ended around 5:30 pm I gathered my things and walked out to my car.

Looking over a letter with my name in the middle, I put it in my brief case and got in my car, leaning back in the seat. I was relaxed, despite the one hundred degree temperature. Looking over my watch, I text my husband and let him know I was on my way home. I told him don't worry about dinner, I'd pick something up on the way to the apartment.

He text back and said that he was cutting the grass. He wanted me to pick up a twelve pack of Heineken and some chicken wings. I text back that I would, even though I had no desire to run into the supermarket. My feet were aching and I was starting to get a headache.

Closing the car door, I tossed the brief case on the back seat and opened the letter with my name on it.

Before I could pull the letter from the envelope, I noticed Marcus sitting in his car, looking me over without making it obvious.

Shaking my head, I turned the key in the ignition and drove off.

Once I exited the parking lot, Marcus turned on his car and left, heading in the opposite direction.

For some reason I smiled, putting him out of my mind.

My loving husband was all the man that I needed.

A few days later I slowly awakened from a crazy dream I couldn't remember.