The Last Word:
Personal Essay

by Scotty Escobar

Yesterday, around 5 PM, I was released from UCI Medical Center for suicidal ideation. I had everything but the intent to follow through with the suicide. What stopped me? Frankly, I’m not sure. Yesterday was my fourth hospitalization for suicidal ideation in my life. And what I do know is that on April 11, 2025, things worsened significantly. Huan (my boyfriend) and I got wrapped up with a man named Hanh Duc Truong LMFT, who managed to do a lot of damage in a short amount of time.Two years ago, Huan and I opened up our relationship. This is to say, we allowed each other to date and have sex with other people. During this time, I had very little sex outside of Huan. And the times that I did, a guy ended up forcing himself on me. And while I was seeing men like this, Huan was having sex with multiple people and contracted a few infections from being unsafe. Granted, Huan got treated eventually, but re-contracted them again soon after recovering. While this sounds bad, these details were just the beginning of the issues.Through his sex escapades, Huan met a man named Hanh in 2023, had sex with him a couple of times, then stopped abruptly. At the time, Huan felt overwhelmed by Hanh’s persistence in meeting. And to avoid Hanh, Huan ignored him for a year, just to return to Hanh in 2024 and explain to him that he had a “psychotic break.” I didn’t know about this “psychotic break” until Hanh found me on a dating app recently and explained what he knew (Hanh was able to recognize my photos and name on the dating app because Huan had shown him my photos and name by then). I had no clue what Hanh was talking about in the moment, so I asked Huan about it. By this point in our relationship, I had already known that Huan tells several lies, but this one was one that even he kept from me.Eventually, while Huan and Hanh met for sex throughout the year that they reconnected (which lasted from 2024 to 2025), Hanh would find out about me. Hanh learned that Huan and I were in a relationship. He didn’t mind this. Hanh even thought it was “cool” that we were in an open relationship as a couple. (Hanh would later criticize me, however, for not doing an open relationship the way he saw was appropriate). When Hanh read my bio on the dating app, he noticed that I was looking for a boyfriend. Which is true. My goal was always to have two boyfriends. And so Hanh asked me immediately if Huan knew about this. Huan already knew about this detail, and I informed Hanh that this understanding was consensual. He would later express disagreement with the belief that having two boyfriends was unsustainable, but other aspects of open relationships are sustainable, like various sexual encounters.Hanh and I kept chatting that first night, then exchanged Instagram profiles and began messaging each other there. We befriended each other in a short amount of time. I got to know a rather good deal about his life. I learned that he had a bachelor’s degree, a master’s degree, and even a doctorate in psychology. How Hanh found Huan is still unbelievable sometimes (they met through a dating app). Hanh was a working professional with a lot of income, and yet, he was sleeping with Huan, who had just turned 21. This wouldn’t be such an issue, of course, if it weren’t for the 30-year age gap between them. I consider myself to be very open-minded and try not to judge. Still, when I noticed discrepancies on Hanh’s dating profile, where he stated that he was 30, I asked Huan about why he listed 30 (I was under the impression Hanh was 50).“He isn’t consistent about his age,” Huan said. This was the first red flag.Still, Hanh and I proceeded with our friendship. I was even willing to have sex with him, or at least, build up to it. I was curious about what my boyfriend saw in him. And besides, I thought Hanh was very attractive. I would later learn that Hanh didn’t live in Santa Ana, where Huan and I live. He commuted to Santa Ana as he worked as a therapist here. Again, I didn’t really see why a 50-year-old therapist was associating himself with my boyfriend and me. Two young adults in their 20s.Eventually, Hanh started telling me about his sex life over messages. This is where things started getting rather concerning. He explained that he had been married for several years, had a son, and eventually became divorced. Following the rise and popularity of dating apps, he soon began meeting people he had met online. Which is fine, that’s what dating apps are for. The issue was that he didn’t use them as most people would. He was a sex addict. A therapist with a sex addiction, giving professional treatment to people who had likely been survivors or victims. And despite that he claimed he was always safe about his sex, his claim of safety went out the window when he revealed to me that he had slept with over 3,000 people. He later said that the number was likely much higher. (Grindr was one app he frequented. The infamous gay “dating” app that isn’t actually a dating app but a hook-up app where anonymity and unsafe sex are a constant issue).Over the following week, Hanh expressed other concerning details. He explained that he liked targeting young men. Like, really young. As in, barely legal. “18 to 22,” as Hanh explained. He would even go to college campuses and have sex sprees where he “fucked” several students. During this period, I admitted to my boyfriend that I was beginning to feel uncomfortable with Hanh’s behavior.“These men are still developing,” I explained to Huan, who had turned 22 not too long ago. “The male brain doesn’t stop developing till 25. I don’t understand why a therapist of all people wants to sleep with people who can barely consent,” I said; my hands were shaking as we drove that day.The stories would just go on and on. Hanh slept with men in church parking lots. He brought men over to his place and would “fuck” throughout the day on a consistent basis. When I eventually asked him if he would even sleep with me (as I wasn’t his target demographic (I was already 28)), he said he’d consider me in my own category. “I’ll think of you as Huan’s boyfriend,” he said to me over messages. Part of me asked this question (why sleep with me if I’m not young anymore?), not because I was enamored with him, but because he simultaneously stated that he considered some of his sex to be “charity” work. Meaning that he slept with people he considered undesirable as a form of charity. That he was doing people a favor by “fucking” them. By this point, it was clear his ego was off the charts. He had likely gotten accustomed to a constant stream of sex from people who didn’t bother to understand him. His partners saw his ‘abs’ in his photos and were likely enticed. As I had said earlier, he was very attractive.Eventually, we met in person after a day of talking. He wasted no time, however, and asked me if I would give him a blowjob in between work. I felt rather turned off by this. “Who has sex during their lunch breaks?” I thought. I declined as I was not as sexual as he was. But really, is anyone that sexual? We eventually agreed to meet for coffee near his workplace and that we would walk around the plaza where the coffee shop was located. And that’s what we did. We didn’t have any major issues. It was nice getting to know him. I don’t really regret this particular time spent with him. The conversation wasn’t sexual either. It was normal. Like two strangers trying to get to know each other. Granted, he didn’t ask me a lot of questions about myself or what my thoughts were on certain topics we were discussing. But I did get to tell him that, just like him, I had studied psychology. What he didn’t completely understand, however, was that I was a writer. And maybe that was his mistake. That while I associated myself with a therapist, he was associating himself with a writer. A personal essayist, to be more specific. I document life as I see it. And while I assume that he lives his life rather privately, especially since most therapists are bound to privacy and private information, I am not.Soon after, I found out that Hanh wanted to have sex with my boyfriend the next day — a regular activity for both of them. But I was already feeling hesitant about what I had been learning about him. So I asked both Huan and Hanh if the three of us could start meeting together. While it may have been odd to make such a request, I wasn’t comfortable letting him have access to my boyfriend anymore. I began feeling suspicious of him. (The following day, after Hanh and I met for coffee, was a Friday. It was coincidentally his last day working in Santa Ana that week. And like I said previously, the three of us agreed to start meeting together. And while Hanh expressed some interest in meeting that Friday, he had a sudden change of plans that required him to leave Santa Ana).Then the weekend came. It was his time off, so we didn’t see him. Monday eventually approaches, and we begin making plans to meet during his lunch break with the possibility of having sex. I offered to clean my room so that we could meet here, which my boyfriend often describes as a messy room. Still, it was a place that had a mattress and a tolerable temperature, which is very different from car sex, which is what Huan and Hanh had been resorting to over the past year. (Hanh would later admit that he had sex with Huan at least 200 times by the time I met him, sometimes, multiple times in one day during his breaks, which did catch me by surprise a bit. This had been going on for so long, and I suddenly realized that I was turning too much of a blind eye to our open relationship. Admittedly, I was partly at fault, as it was Hanh who wanted to meet me throughout the year. “I’m shy,” I would communicate to both Huan and Hanh as my reason for not wanting to meet Hanh yet. This part was true).But anyhow, the night before the three of us were to meet, with the possibility of having a three-way, my boyfriend messaged me, explaining that he was likely to fall asleep during the time of our three-way. By the time I read this message, Huan was already asleep. But Huan did encourage Hanh and me to meet for sex before falling asleep via one last message. And so I took Huan’s advice and coordinated with Hanh. (I soon explained to Hanh that Huan would likely be asleep, but that Huan still “encouraged” us to meet).“You can at least come for a blowjob,” I said to Hanh over Instagram messages. And so he came over. I still lived with my parents at the time, so I had to notify them that “Huan’s friend” was coming to visit me. My dad and I tried figuring out the parking situation. Hanh communicated that I stress out too much when I asked him about parking. Of course, Hanh didn’t know too much about the conditions I live under. He eventually arrived and parked. He came into my room and immediately undressed. I started undressing too, following his lead. We eventually got to work, but when it came to the blowjob, I asked him if he could put on a condom. (I would later find out that this moment confused him, almost displeasing him). Still, he agreed. Part of me asked him to put on a condom because that’s what my doctors have always recommended for oral sex. It’s a well-known practice to use condoms for oral sex to be safe. Whether people do it or not is another story. (Still, Hanh of all people should know this. He has a doctorate and works in the health industry. What’s all his knowledge and expertise for, anyway?). Besides, I didn’t feel comfortable having unprotected sex with someone who had slept with over 3,000 people. And so after he put on the condom, we continued. He eventually asked if he could do “anal” with me. I declined and explained that I was a virgin and would likely not be good at it. He attempted to persuade me, but I still declined. “Maybe in the future?” I suggested. This might have been where Hanh and I differed greatly. I was accustomed to safe sex, regular dating, and building rapport with people. He, on the other hand, didn’t prioritize these qualities. Eventually, he finishes, declines to reciprocate, and leaves, all within ten or fifteen minutes. “Are you sure you don’t want to play with me?” I said before he dressed himself, encouraging him to reciprocate the sex. He declines, explaining that he is on break, and makes his way out.We continue to chat for another day or so, then he leaves for a road trip, a sort of “spring break.” I eventually stopped hearing from him. During this time, my mother becomes very sick, and I become a son with a parent who may or may not be alive by the end of the week. Things were getting harder for me, and my mom was deteriorating, all while trying to navigate this new dynamic in the open relationship.Eventually, Hanh comes back and messages me. He messages Huan shortly after, attempting to continue with the life he had departed from (with the intention of meeting Huan for sex, of course). By this point, I was very uncomfortable with Hanh, his qualities, his behavior, his ethics, and his morals. So I asked Huan to stop meeting him for sex. This is where things get rather complicated. Hanh tries to convince my boyfriend that I was ignoring him and that a good amount of time had passed since he messaged me. Huan contacts me and asks me to reply to Hanh, explaining the situation. And so I contact Hanh. I respond to him, update him on how my mom is struggling for life in the hospital, and how difficult things are. He offers sympathy, but quickly gets to the point. He wastes no time and confronts me about the agreement between Huan and me. He is upset that he can’t get access to my boyfriend anymore. He explains that he would have liked to have been included in our conversation. Part of me understands him, but the fact that he was already trying to create a narrative where I ignored his messages rubbed me the wrong way and seemed manipulative. (He took days to respond to me, but me taking a few hours to reply is an issue?). He gets upset and asks me to reconsider this situation with Huan.

As time proceeds, Huan and I talk about Hanh and the general nature of our open relationship. I felt that Huan had been given too much liberty with whom he associated himself with. Huan, on the other hand, points out my ignorance in not wanting to hear the details (both sexual and non-sexual) of his encounters. After some time discussing, we revisit whether Hanh should be involved in our relationship or not. And well, I had to step back and think about what I was comfortable with, which I hadn’t fully acknowledged until this point. Would I be comfortable with allowing my boyfriend to sleep with someone who has slept with over 3,000 people and was actively sleeping with more outside of Huan and me? With someone who critiqued my appearance (he commented several times on my hair length as well as my facial hair)? With someone who wouldn’t reciprocate sex? And most importantly, with someone who targets young men? These were tough questions to think about. Eventually, Hanh and I have a phone call, and I bring up these issues. While he is supportive in some aspects, he fails in others. In some cases, he is understanding of the relationship that Huan and I have, and that it shouldn’t end because of him; in other cases, he manages to insult me. “I could get ‘head’ from five different guys on Grindr if I wanted to,” he says to me in an attempt to dismiss the sex we had. To minimize it. To detract from its value and to emphasize how easy it is for him to get sex from people. That, at the end of the day, I am just another person among many. My heart sank at this point. We then talked about how he didn’t reciprocate the sex when we met. “When I go out of my way to drive to someone, it’s because I expect anal. Besides, I didn’t have a lot of time,” he says. “There was a lack of communication, or no communication,” he adds. But I never promised anal. I offered oral sex. This part made my heart sink even further. Looking back, one could say that he felt entitled to the sex. “And the condom thing…” he begins to complain, expressing that we have actually known each other for a very long time through Huan, and that the condom showed my insecurities. While this may have been true in his eyes, I felt that I was trying to lean on the cautious side. At the end of the day, he was someone whom I had only recently met.Eventually, the call ends, and I’m left with my thoughts and the hour-long conversation I just had. Not all of it was bad, of course, but there were enough red flags to make a judgment on whether or not to include him in our lives.The following day, I messaged Hanh. I explain:“Hey, Hanh. So I was talking with Huan. And we think we will start limiting the people we have sex with for now. I’m in the process of talking to Huan about the rest of his partners that I don’t know about. At the moment, I’m reconsidering how comfortable I feel with those sexual dynamics and how to move forward. For now, I think it would be a safe idea if Huan refrains from meeting you for sex — I’m not sure how you feel about this, but you can definitely talk to either of us about this. Also, I would like to thank you for the call the other day. Once again, I appreciate your transparency and also the guidance you gave. I still have a bit of learning to do about open relationships, especially since Huan and I were doing very different things while we were open. I think being aware of what’s going on will be helpful in the long run, if Huan and I are to continue our relationship or not.”Hanh expresses disappointment but also understanding. And while I thought the turbulent relationship between Hanh and me was ending on an adequate note, his behavior showed otherwise. Hanh, I would soon find out, messages Huan and critiques my decision, my behavior, my thoughts, my way of being, everything that could be and was personal was fair game. He wanted to have the last word on this issue. Hanh expressed to Huan that I was blowing things out of proportion, that I was overreacting, that I was overthinking, anxious, a “snowflake,” and that I needed “ten years of therapy.” As I found out about these details, I looked over at my boyfriend, Huan, who didn’t seem to care about the way I was being treated. My eyes, turning red, my heart already out of my body; I looked into his eyes, as if something would help, but nothing. Nothing came. There was just my silence and his apathy. The only thing I knew to do in that moment was to ask Huan to leave my home. I didn’t feel comfortable or safe with the way Hanh was treating me behind my back, and Huan’s lack of urgency made me even more uncomfortable. And of all things a therapist could say, saying that someone, who isn’t even their client, needs “ten years of therapy,” is one of the most egregious things a therapist could say. It goes against their practice and invalidates their profession and license. Therapy, at the end of the day, should not be weaponized. It should always be consensual. Likewise, he probably knew by this point that I was in therapy simply from conversations he’s had with my boyfriend. And to use it against me was to prove a point. That no matter what my future would be, my effort to get treatment for suicidality, or any other problem I have, would be under scrutiny. That I would inevitably prove his point. And my deciding against therapy would be a sign that I need it even more. In the following weeks, I lost myself. How could I live in the same world where a therapist can say such awful things? His words cast a shadow that was bigger than my mom’s looming death, my constant risk of homelessness, and even bigger than all the psychiatric medications I’ve swallowed to simply stay alive. I found myself in a world where it wasn’t just anyone, but someone with power, who could get the last word on me.And as I came out of the hospital for an almost-suicide — still thinking of Hanh incessantly, his terrible behavior, and all the horrid things he had to say about someone he only “put up with” (as Huan said) because I was Huan’s boyfriend — I thought, do therapists get the last word? Or do writers?