Open Letter to Omar From Orlando Nightclub Shooting Survivor

I'm a young, gay man who was born in New Jersey and grew up in Orlando. I love my friends, I love my parents, I’m half Puerto Rican, half Dominican, 21 years old, and at 2 a.m. on Sunday morning, you almost took my life.

I go to Pulse nightclub in Orlando because I feel comfortable there, and I can be myself. Several of my friends were there that night, including my friend Stanley. I will never see Stanley again. You took that away from me. 

Saturday night was Latin night, and it was a party vibe because of the Puerto Rican Day Parade. It was a hot night, and the club was filled with life and love and dancing and — until you arrived — pure joy.

I go to Pulse nightclub in Orlando because I feel comfortable there, and I can be myself. Several of my friends were there that night, including my friend Stanley. I will never see Stanley again. You took that away from me. 

Saturday night was Latin night, and it was a party vibe because of the Puerto Rican Day Parade. It was a hot night, and the club was filled with life and love and dancing and — until you arrived — pure joy.

My friends and I arrived at Pulse around 11 p.m. I’ve been going to the club for a few years now, and it’s a wonderful place to let loose and really be yourself in Orlando. We had been having an amazing weekend, and we were planning to stay until it closed, but as it turned out, my friend Vincent had the premonition that he wanted to head out before everyone tried to leave at once, since last call was already upon us.

My friend Vincent saved my life.

Across the street, moments after we left, we heard the gunshots start. They sounded like firecrackers. We were terrified. We saw people running all around us, some of them jumping fences. We had no idea the all-consuming nightmare we narrowly escaped inside.

Minutes after we left, without realizing how precious those minutes were, that’s when the massacre began.

Before heading to Pulse on Saturday night, with my friends Vincent (middle)

“The deadliest mass shooting attack on U.S. soil.”

“The worst terror attack since 9/11.”

Please. Let’s call it what it was: the worst attack — on love — on U.S. soil.

Names of Victims:
Edward, Stanley, Luis, Akyra, Luis, Juan, Eric, Peter, Kimberly, Eddie, Enrique, Anthony, Jonathan, Yilmary, Cory, Mercedez, Deonka, Miguel, Jason, Darryl, Jean Carlos and Luis Daniel, Oscar and Simon, Shane, Amanda, Martin, Gilberto, Javier, Tevin, Alejandro, Franky, Xavier, Joel, Juan, Luis, Juan, Jerald, Leroy, Jean, Rodolfo, Brenda, Christopher, Angel, Frank, Paul, Antonio, Christopher, Geraldo...

These men and women were strangers to you. All of them had one precious gift, one saving grace that you could never, ever have. That much is clear. I know you had a child and a wife and a father and a mother, but you did not have what they had. You never could have. What happened never could have happened if you did.




But Omar, you failed.
You tried to massacre the very one thing that you can never destroy in our community. Ever.
You can not take away our love.
It is more powerful than anything else that exists in the world.

WOW!!!
Love is love! who are we to judge whats right or wrong. Gay, Lesbian, Transgender, Bisexual etc they are people too and if being who they are is their way of finding happiness why not? Isn't that what we all want, to be happy?

King Eva