Paul & Max Benhor Hontor

PART 1 – Happy belated birthday, Ben dear. This time, without the, we-used-to birthday kisses.


Forget belated, happy birthday to you Ben dear. Yeah, happy birthday to all the names you go around with, Uncle Ben… Fr. Max, Fr. Maxmilliano Benhor Hontor. I fucking miss you. I really am.

Writing this as I listen to a comforting violin melody just so that I could write this in ways I supposed to. Besides, it’s a good music that aids me to recall all our memories. I love you Ben.

On your birthday last July, I went to the places we used to go. I took a few pictures of the one-day trip you can see them as you scroll all the way down.

I dearly miss you. I dearly miss our intimate kisses. I really do.

Let’s remember all those times when our lips met. It was all sweet, like candies. A love so sweet like candies and chocolates.

You left me back in March 2018, so on your birthday that year, there wasn’t a kiss between us like we used to have. Now it’s 2019, it was your birthday again back in July, and again, it was without our used-to kisses.

On my birthday last year, you gave me the most beautiful kiss I will forever remember. The way your tender lip met mine, it was a candy. Thank you for the kiss, Ben dear. It was the last birthday kiss I guess. Sadly.

I was surely missing your kiss on my birthday this year so instead I kissed your picture on my phone wallpaper. It was somewhat enough-but-not. Something was missing, or rather someone. You.

And again, I love you Ben. I really miss the times we shared together; every moment, every kiss, every sex, oh shit, this sounds rather risqué blue so let’s just say, every love we made. Fuck, I miss everything about you.

For this post, I won’t be writing a shit about a 3rd person (a lover) that you might be having an affair with now, I’m just guessing. But well, if you do have someone else whom you keep secretly because you are a Catholic priest, I am dead jealous, I fucking am. You kept our love a secret too – for 3 long years, so surely you can keep your current affair (if any) for some very long years as well.

But above all things, you know that I will always be the one who loves you most. I still do. Forever will be. Though I’m just a loyal ass dog that you’ve thrown off down in the street, right into the piles of garbage.

A year had passed Ben, I’m still holding on. I still love you. I still want you. I still hope that you’d come back. And no matter the wild and violent the torrents we’d been through, I still love you. I love you even more every single day, please remember this.

On your birthday last July, I drove to the places we used to rove. All alone.

There’s no such shit as perfect relationship. Every time we quarreled, I always went to the same places just to look back at all the beautiful memories you and I once shared. On your last birthday, I headed to the same places again. And perhaps, this I’ll keep doing every year till an old age forbids my ass to move around like I now can.

I am committed to you Ben. And trust me, I will never find someone else. I meant it when I say to you that you are everything to me. Fuck your priesthood, you chose it, you knew that, for the fact that you’re a gay and needed a place to support you. You can quit it anytime if you want to, and we can then wander the world together, it’ll be great. We get married somewhere where it’s legalized. But if all these aren’t in this life, I’ll still wait for you in the next.

For the record, it’s funny how you had always denied that you’re gay and pretended to be straight but still you kissed and made love with me. Well, if one day you quit priesthood and marry a woman just to prove to other people that you aren’t a gay, I can’t stop you. It’s your choice, your decision. Just like you chose priesthood to cover something about yourself that you’re afraid to show to the world.

But surely you’re afraid to leave priesthood either because it’s where all the great privileges and money you needed can be easily found, earned.. You knew it’s hard outside in the real world. So I’m guessing that you would forever stay and stick to your Reverend Father Maxmilliano Benhor Hontor title then. And that’s okay.

Do whatever that is best for you. To you, I’m no longer yours. But to me, you’re always mine in a sense that you’re always that someone I treasure and hold dear the most.

Shit, I babbled much like a fucking bitch.

Now back to your birthday last July, here are some of the shots I took with your birthday date and time indicated on each shot. It was a lonely drive and fucking lonely trip without you. It was very fucking lonely. Well fuck, even my life right now is so fucking lonely without you.

Again, I love you. I can keep saying this forever, and I mean what it means like I always do.

It was a lovely day on your beautiful birthday, Max Benhor Hontor. But you are lovelier, you are the loveliest one for me. And I’m always that worst piece of fuckest shit ever to you.

I left home at 11am that day. I drove slow like a fucking grandma. I drove the road while thinking about you. Do you still remember this route Ben?


I didn’t stop at our usual spot as there were too many cars there that day. The Chinese coffee shop that we used to have our meals was no longer operating so instead I headed straight to the small cafe some hundred meters ahead, you know, the tiny little cafe that we alternatively used to stopped by for a coffee break. But that tiny little cafe seemed to completely shut too.


Here’s the spot we used to sit.


It looks dead just like our current relationship. Dead ass fuck. But someone seems to keeping it neat though it’s dead – just like me, all alone, holding on and keeping our relationship alive though it’s already long dead.

I have some old pictures of you here Ben. I still keep them all. You were cute. You’re always cute, Ben dear.

I miss those days I gently caressed your cheek and brushed you hair. I miss those days you gently caressed my cheek and brushed my hair. But those good days were long gone. What a bad fucking luck but thank your fucking god we had all the great naked fucks in your church-given silver car, Toyota Vigo SAA6620K. I miss your penis too.

I continued the drive and got here.


Still remember we photographed our cute selfies here? Or what’s the new terminology is, wefie?I’ll upload the pictures soon.

Ben, I cherish your every smile. Each one made me happy, each one made my heart sings. Jesus fucking Christ, I miss you a lot Ben. I really do.

From there, I drove my ass down descending the road till I got here.

But we never stopped here, not once, so I didn’t get off the car. I continued the long drive and it was fucking hot outside. The sun seared like hell. But since I am hell myself, so that’s pretty fucking fine then.


The air-cond worked perfectly. Just as it functioned perfectly and had you sleeping so comfortably when I drove along this route on those very good days, with you.

Ben, I thought I’d never lose you. But I lost you. I’m sorry that I’m not good enough for you Ben. I’m sorry I love you most. I’m sorry I hurt you most.

The drive to Ranau felt short because you were all that everything that flowed in my head. The first place I went when I arrived that small town was the church you once worked and served at, St. Peter Claver Catholic Church, Ranau. The look of this church doesn’t change a bit, it’s the same old shit.


And here’s the rectory where I used to pick you up and drop you off.


I remember that day when you and I just arrived here from KK, you asked me to carry some stuffs, it was a tortoise if I could recall. You told me to bring it to the toilet in your room up stairs. I saw all your badly torn underwear hanging dry in the toilet, I remember you made a joke about it. I laughed.

Thinking it all back, you couldn’t even afford to buy new underwear before you were a priest… but now you are… working as a Catholic priest… for a billion dollar organization existed to continue the men-made fairy tales of the sandy desert.

That Ford Ranger… the gentle, good and kind Fr. Francis was there. I wanted to say him a hello, but I didn’t. But I hope he’s in good health. I miss talking to him. He’s a good old man.

While that white Toyota Vigo, if I’m not mistaken, I think it belongs to and driven by that gay Catholic priest who was caught having gay sex with a boy when he was serving in Kiulu a few years back and later after being caught, the church sent him to a nearby country for 2 years for a so-called reflection.

Meh, reflection my fucking ass, fuck that shit, so much so that that reflection was only a pretext – 2 years in another country – a period that is more than enough for everyone to forget about the story of his gay love and gay sex affair with that boy in Kiulu. No offense if he reads it. It’s just the awesome church that awesomely plays an awesome game.

Either gay or straight, but without a proof, I’m still kind of certain that some priests do engage in and have sex too, in silence, and it’s a worldwide shit after all. For instance, like first having a secret love affair that eventually leads to an intimate love-making flesh to flesh. Like you and I, Ben.

Priests aren’t angels. That priest title sounds like a holy-thou-art bullshit but in fact, all are mere humans who need sexual affections like everyone else. Oh, it’s big ass lie if they don’t masturbate. I masturbated you too, Ben.

Men will never be able to have their dicks containing the tadpoles in there too long, there are times to burst the tadpoles out and let the toad leaps free. Sticks and blanket moved up and down, like I did you and you did me, Ben. It’s a natural tendency after all. A nature fiat.

I left the church and headed straight to the town’s KFC – where you and I had our first meal together.


I had no appetite for fried chickens on the day but hey it was your birthday Ben dear, I must celebrate it even without you sitting next to me. I sat at the exact same spot we once sat, here…


It was a nice meal but it was nicer if you were there, Ben dear. I miss you much, I wish you were here that day and for the millionth time, I miss you.

Had the meals down my belly, I sat there for quite some time remembering the moments we shared and all the jokes you made, I even laughed at ones that weren’t funny at all. I think I was trying to give myself a big happy smile seeing how cute you were (you still are).

If there was an award for the sweetest couple of the century, we could have won it. I mean, not because of the meals, the fuck. What I meant was, the love story, that we once had. Fuck what they say about gay shit, a fucking love is fucking love.

I will keep our story alive Ben. We made a promise to never leave each other no matter what comes our way. I hold on to that promise. And even in like a hundred years from now and even to a fucking eternity, I will stay true to the promise.

And trust me, I will never have sex with anyone else, except only with you. From the bottom of my heart, you were the only one I ever had sex with, Ben dear. I’m a loyal piece of shit that the heavens can’t keep and hell can’t accept. And I am sexy like that.

Ben, do you remember this place? I went up here too. I still have that picture of a handsome and cute you that I once took here. I’ll post it soon.


God fucking dammit, I fucking love you so fucking much Ben.You are beautiful to me.

Anyways, I’ll continue this on Part 2. I’ll be writing that soon. In Part 2, I’d write about a very beautiful place I went to sit quietly and calm the fuck down at while thinking about you. That place was really quiet. The serenity there was a great cool shit I would go there again next year on your birthday in July 2020, when you’ll turn 43 and I’ll turn 33.

Till Part 2, I love you, Ben dear. I love you, Uncle Ben. I love you more than anything. I love you more than anyone. Always.

Loving you more than your imaginary Jesus ever could,

P/S: To the goddamn people who read this and judge the gay shit out of us born-gay handsomeness, here’s a message for your pathetic little frog-under-a-coconut-shell brain:

Books are plenty but stupidity still proliferates. It’s impossible to educate an ignorant fucking moron whose brain is as tiny as a maggot’s fucking testicle. You can’t explain the heterogeneous biological origins of homosexuality to an idiot who refuses to fathom even the basic of science.

To Part 2.

About Paul Maxben.

Sacred Heart Cathedral Parish, Kota Kinabalu.
Katedral Hati Kudus, Kota Kinabalu.
St. Paul Catholic Church Dontozidon, Penampang.
St. Peter Claver Catholic Church, Ranau.
St. John Catholic Church, Tuaran.
Our Lady Queen of Peace Catholic Church, Kobusak.
St. John The Baptist Catholic Church, Kopungit.
Katolik Sabah.
Sabah Catholic.
Catholic priest, Reverend Fr. Maxmilliano (Max) Benhor Hontor.