Note: Some of these early posts are difficult to share. They almost seem contrary to what I’m ultimately hoping to express, which is love, and an appreciation for the men who have positively impacted my life. My intentions aren’t to be lewd or overexposed, but I’m convinced that the background stories, however shallow and lacking in emotional substance, are important for readers to understand what has shaped my perspective. Thank you all for reading and for the encouragement I’ve received. Please share my blog with anybody you think might enjoy it, and comments on the blog page are greatly appreciated so myself and others can know what you think.
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So I’ll be talking about purely physical love here, which really isn’t love at all but I can’t exclude it or the influence it’s had on me in my path to becoming the person I am. As I’ve mentioned before, my original plan was to remain a virgin until I got married, to a girl of course. I received a lot of props and accolades throughout my teens and twenties regarding this decision, but I can’t say that it was much of an accomplishment for me considering the fact that I really wasn’t into girls...no temptation there. Regardless, I made it until I was 27 before having sex, althoughI think the fact that it was with a guy kind of annuls the accomplishment, at least from a religious perspective. At this point, after 11 years of consciously struggling with my sexuality, I was still hanging on to the hope that this attraction to men was just a phase, and my sexual experience remained somewhat limited, never progressing to sex. I somehow felt that reserving this final act enabled me to continue the charade that I was simply curious, or still just hadn’t met the right girl.
Over the years I had explored my curiosity with a number of guys, most of which I had met in online chat rooms. Being from rural Oklahoma, there was constant fear and paranoia of being outed. I believe sex and human intimacy is a powerful drive, a need even, that is extremely difficult to avoid altogether. For those who are in the closet, this necessitates an element of discretion and secrecy, often followed by lies about where you are going and where you have been. This isn’t something I’m proud of, or ashamed of...it’s simply the reality of what was necessary to meet this need.
Tye was yet another guy I had met in an online chat room. We had been talking for several weeks, as was my habit, because I felt a little better about myself if I established something of a relationship, if you can call it that. I knew my “hookups” would never turn into anything meaningful, and I didn’t want them to at this point in my life, but my conscience felt slightly more clear when I did it this way.
So after agreeing to “hang out”, I drove the half hour to meet Tye at his house. This wasn’t my first time meeting a guy this way, but the knot of nervousness and anxiety that I felt in my gut accompanied me, as usual. On the rare occasion that my thoughts weren’t flooded with the fear of being outed somehow, there were other, big “what if” questions: “What if he’s secretly a gay hater and this was all part of an elaborate plot to kill a fag?”, “What if he used a fake picture and he’s hideous?”...that would be awkward, “What if he has an STD?”. I think many of these nervous feelings and thoughts are common when meeting another person romantically, whether straight or gay, but the difference is I couldn’t talk with anybody about what was going on in my head. Bottling up this anxiety, worry, and fear can result in an amplification of crazy and irrational thoughts.
Tye was a young guy, 24 at the time, and very good looking. He was “straight acting” like I preferred, fit but not a meat head, confident, and very relaxed and easy going. This made it easy for me to feel an instant connection with him, and there was also a sense of comfort. I really didn’t plan to have sex for the first time that night, but it happened very naturally. I’ve heard horror stories from friends, gay and straight alike, about their disastrous experiences with their first time having sex; and not to brag, but my first time was pretty amazing. In my mind it was like many of the porn videos I had seen. This was yet another defining moment where I knew what was right for me; another time where despite the guilt, I felt like I was doing what was right. However, at the same time, I feared that I had taken another step down a one way path. At this point in my life I had already begun to sever some of my religious ties, but that was never the sole reason for my resistance to being openly gay. I knew there would be difficult conversations, rejection, possible alienation.
This all happened just before my move from Oklahoma to Arizona, and I wouldn’t have been opposed to seeing Tye again, in fact I did years later. But I was ready to start a new life in Arizona with my best friend Doug, who had moved to Phoenix a year prior for school. It’s funny, but I was till hanging on to the hope that I would meet a girl that would “straighten me out” for good. Although I was more ready to admit to myself that I was gay, or maybe just bi, admitting this to those I cared about was another story entirely, so I was obliged to continue the charade. And while you might think that moving to a new city would make it easier to become more candid about my affections, it actually renewed my hope that I could turn straight if I just met the right girl.
