My First Gay Date… Sort Of.

I’ve had my job, in the Facility Management office of my buliding, for just over six years.  In that time, I’ve had interactions withy many types of individuals, vendors, reapairmen, engineers, etc.  When I started I was, among other things, responsible for approving and coordinating building wide events in our building lobby.

There is an individual with whom we have dealt on a number of occasions, who coordinates education fairs.  He works for the University of Pheonix here in Oakland, CA.  I will call him UOP Guy.

UOP Guy and I communicated on mulitple occasions about education fairs in the lobby.  One day when I was sill an Adminstrative Assistant UOP Guy invited me to lunch as a show of appreciation for my efforts to help him coordinate his edcation fairs.

I spent the next few days after the invite, experiencing anxiety over the possibility that this might every well be a date, I just wasn’t sure.  I was still very closeted, and still in denial to mself.  And yet, I was willing, at least at that moment, to take the chance that this was in fact a date.  How would I handle it if it were?  I had no idea.  Part of me hoped that it was just that.

UOP Guy and I met up for lunch that day and I was very nervous about the whole thing.  I imagined it was a date.  I tried to make sure I said the right things.  I complimented UOP Guy on his choice of restaurant and the type of food/environment it provided.  I smiled politely, I laughed at all the right moments.  I commented on what a great time I’d had and how we should do it again.

When the lunch was over, UOP Guy walked me to the door and bid me farewell…

I walked back to work befuddled as to what had happened, and what might come next.  While we had a few interactions in the interem, UOP Guy and I didn’t communicate much for a good year or two.  By that time my title had changed and UOP Guy and I didn’t have much interaction at all, yet he invited me to lunch again.

It was at this lunch that UOP Guy began to talk to me about his girlfriend and their living arrangement as a couple living together in San Francisco, apartment life, parking problems, et. al.

I was even more befuddled.  My instincts told me that UOP Guy is gay, and I’ve fantasized about a lovely life as a same-sex couple living in San Francisco with a great social life, healthy bank account and a great apartment in which we’d live.  If only that damn bitch (he said playfully) weren’t in the way…  Assuming she even exists.

To this day, I have very little ineraction with UOP Guy.  I wish I had the courage, strength and knowledge of our culture to know what is welcomed and whether/how to make an advance, but I don’t.  I just get to wonder…

I would sure like to find a guy with whom I have things in common, and I can be myself.  But from where I stand now I don’t know how to tell who’s who and what they represent.  I sure wish we wore signs or something.

Unexpected Outing

I hadn’t actualy planned on doing so any time soon, but I ended up coming out to Unsvelt Girl Who Runs today.  She was in my office and we were having one of our MANY random conversations when the subject of gays came up.

“I wish I had a gay friend,” said UGWR, “They’re usually just as catty as I am.”

“Actually, you do.” I said.

“I do?” she asked, confused.  “Am I aware of this?”

I smiled, “Well, you weren’t.”

She quickly changed the subject and brought up her former co-worker, Margalo, the one I previously heard her talk about and had the reaction that made me quetion whether coming out to Unsvelt Girl was the right thing to do.

After a few minutes of Margalo conversation, I said, “See, I can’t tell if you’re glossing over what I just said, or if you’re not understanding what I just said.” 

“I’m not sure I understand.” she said as she continuted to converse/monopolize the conversation.  I became a bit anxious about what that meant and if I was going to have to decide whether to explain it or not, when she said, “Why did we decide to share today?”

“It was time?” I replied.  Unsvelt Girl has no gaydar and in her earlier days, dated a number of guys who turned out later to be gay.  She equates it with her lack of an internal compass….

I asked her, “Given your…  lack of sense of direction…  does this come as a surprise to you?”

“Not really.” she said.  “You’re very… fastideous.  I can’t really put my finger on it.  I’m just not surprised.” 

Later, afer this conversation had come to a natural conclusion, I asked her, via Instant message, “It’s because I added Clay Aiken as my very first albun to my first iPod isn’t it?” 

She laughed and said, “That’s it.  Becuase, you know, every one who…  Is…  does that…!”

I think that means she’s ok with things and acepts them as the are…

Perhaps, the Hardest Step

On Sunday, M&M, who, at 33 years old (me not her),  is the one and only woman I have ever been physically intimate with, took me out to dinner and a movie as a belated birthday celebration.  I had already made up my mind at that point that I was determined to come out to her.  

 

Strangely, I didn’t really think it would be that difficult.  Man was I mistaken!  I was very nervous and visibly shaking.  “So,” I started, “If someone had something to tell you that you may or may not want to hear, how would and when would you want them to do it?”

“Um.  I don’t know,”  she said.  ”In a joke maybe?  I don’t know.  Just come out and say it I guess.  Why?  Do you have something to tell me?  Are you sick?  Are you dieing?”

“Yes” I said, “I’m sick.  I have an inoperable brain tumor.  I have six months to live.”  She laughed but she did not get the joke.  

 

With a mouthful of California Pizza Kitchen, Hawaiian pizza, eyes averted and my hand in front of my mouth I murmured, “Would it come as a surprise to you, if I told you I was gay?”

She didn’t hear me. 

I moved my hand, swallowed and said more clearly, but not much more loudly, “Would it come as a surprise to you, if I told you I was gay?”

 

There was what seemed like an eternity before she said, “No.  Not really.”  The rest is a blur actually.  I was still anxious and shaking, I was less interested in discussing it further than I thought I would be.  We talked about something else, she asked another question.  I answered as best I could.  She stared at me like there was supposed to be something more.  We discussed other topics.  She asked me if I was ok.

“No, I’m not.” 

And so it went for nearly another hour before we called it a night and parted ways.  I feel better today.  It’s out there, and I can’t take it back.  That’s something.  I feel that I have a lot farther to go.  I do believe, though, that telling M&M was one of the biggest hurdles I had to face.  Now that she knows I don’t have to worry about things getting back to her.  I would think, though I can’t be sure, that telling the next person should be easier.  

I’m having second thoughts about telling Unsvelt Girl Who Runs.  We’re friends and I’d like to feel like I can share this with her, but we work in the same small office with three other people, and she tends to be loud even when she thinks she’s not being.  She also can get very upset with people, myself included, and I’m not entirely sure I can count on her not to use this as ammunition the next time she thinks I’ve done something wrong against her.  I’m not in a huge hurry to tell my coworkers and I‘m not sure I can count on her to keep my confidence.  That one will require some further thought.

 

For now, I’m just glad to not have to hide it all the time…and I’m glad that M&M handled it well.  In a way, she’d have had every right to be hurt and angry, but she’s not…  Well not really.  She seemed to be genuinely disappointed that I told my friend Center o’ the Universe (Don’t believe me, just ask her), who lives 1800 miles away, has believed I was gay from the day we met, is the only person I knew who I knew exacly how would respnd, and oh yeah, I’m head over heals in love with (pussy and all)  a year or so ago but couldn’t tell her (M&M) till now.  She’ll get over that.

(Sigh, a long heavy breath of relief.)

Other Reasons for Anxiety Today

In addition to the anxiety of facing this social even tonight, I’m experiencing anxiety for other reasons as well.  Last night I was thinking about where I stand with this whole being gay thing and I sort of thought that I should start telling people.  Just a few right now.  It’s my 33rd birthday today and I thought what a great gift for myself to come out to my friends and stop living in fear and hiding…  One of the friends I want to tell is Unsvelt Girl Who Runs, my co-worker/friend that suggested I go to this thing tonight.  I want to tell her the truth and be done with it.  This all seemed like a good idea last night while drinking a glass of wine.  Now by the light of day, I’m terrified.

 

I have serious reservations about how she’ll react.  Not that I wouldn’t anyway, but a while back she told me a story about having gone to lunch with a co-worker she’d befriended named Margalo.  They were strolling down the street when Margalo turned to UGWR randomly and said, “You know I’m gay, right?”  UGWR tells this story as if it was a lightning bolt from on high.  She apparently played it off and told Margalo, “Yeah.  Sure.  I knew that.”  But inside she was reeling.  UGWR has said to me, “I don’t think I wanted to know that.”  So maybe she doesn’t want to know it about me either.  And maybe she will feel differently about me, and around me if she knows.  Maybe she already suspects and won’t think anything of it.  Maybe she’s disturbed by it because she has some lesbian tendencies herself and doesn’t want to face it.  I don’t know.  Maybe I’m over thinking this and worried for no reason.

 

I guess what I’m wrestling with here is, would it be selfish for me to tell her if she really doesn’t want to know, or is it selfish for her not to want to know and make me feel like I can’t tell her.  And does it really matter?  I sure wish this was an easier process. 

 

I guess, truthfully, I’m putting too much pressure on myself all at once, dealing with this social event and wanting to come out to my friend.  Perhaps it’s better to wait for some other day.

The First Day.

Today, as they say, is the first day of the rest of my life. I’m trying to start something new here and I hope it works out. Sometimes I have a lot to say and no one to say it too so maybe this will be the place. I certainly need the anonymity.

I am two days away from my 33rd birthday and I am completely alone and isolated from the world. I’ve spent most of my life dealing with clinical depression but I think I’m coming out of that now. I’ve made the decision to stop taking the medication that I’ve been on for about 5 years, but I know from previous experience that this is not something that you do quickly. The plan I’ve laid out for myself to stop taking the meds has me continuing being medicated until October 31, 2008.

Another reason why I feel that the depression is lifting is that after literally a lifetime of denial and disbelief I’ve finally come to acknowledge the fact that I’m gay. I always have been, and in retrospect I’ve always known it, but it was commonly held that being gay was the most grievous of sins and that there was no chance of happiness (let alone eternal life) if one were gay. I barely dated in high school. Due in part to the fact that I was very unpopular and had very low self esteem. (Still do.) I never felt good enough for anyone else and the one true girlfriend I did have in high school was just rebounding from her previous boyfriend. They ended up getting back together after we took him along with us on a “date” to see the school play. I didn’t have a car, she drove and they dropped me off first. Can you say “writing on the wall”?

I literally only had one other date the entirety of high school. A very sweet girl who I never thought I stood a chance with, but with whom I had shared a “moment” the last week of junior year and so I gave it a shot… It took me 5 months to ask her out and was very surprised to find that she agreed. Being the blithering idiot that I am, I invited her to a concert that was still two months away and didn’t have the presence of mind to ask her to do something before then. By the time the concert rolled around she had a boyfriend and was going with me as a “friend”. I always wanted a girlfriend but I just wasn’t the kind of guy who bounced from girl to girl and I didn’t have the guts to ask girls out.

Meanwhile, I’d go home after school, pull my “International Male” Catalogues out from under the bed and find a good picture for inspiration while I jerked off. “I’m not gay,” I told myself. “I don’t want to be with one of these guys. I want to be like them.” I wonder now how common that lie is among the young, closeted, fearful gay community? I DID want to be like them. I wanted to be muscular, and tan and smooth. I wanted to have a full head of beautiful hair (I started losing mine freshman year. Who says God isn’t cruel?) But I also wanted to be loved by them. Taken care of by them. Made love to, by them. I wanted to see those bulges out of those skimpy bikini bathing suits and thongs on the pages. I of course never admitted any of this to myself back then, let alone anyone else.

I went on to college and decided that this was going to be where my life began. No more being self conscious or embarrassed about myself. I was going to live. I was going to make friends, I was going to date and I was going to find my future wife. My future wife! I happened to go to the same college where my sister was a senior and she and I shared an apartment. There wasn’t going to be much experimentation there, what with us having been raised in a Christian household and even straight sex was a no-no before marriage.

There was a girl in Sister’s choir that I thought was cute. Sister said, “She’s sweet. I approve.” So I asked the girl out…she turned me down flat. A bit later I met another girl, Cheryl, also in the choir with Sister. She was also approved of and we did go out a few times. Was never officially called a date and in retrospect I don’t know if Cheryl thought it was, but I was falling hard.

The day before finals week ended, I rear-ended a Ford F-150 with Sister’s Geo Metro. There were no injuries fortuantely, but the car was in bad shape and I had to pay for the repairs. As a result, no more college for me. When I realized I wasn’t going to be going back I sent a letter to Cheryl telling her that I wasn’t coming back but that I really enjoyed our time together and would like to maintain our relationship… I never heard from her again.

Shortly after that, I fell for a girl at work, Kerri. We were going to get married, but I didn’t have a car and my employment options were pretty limited. We agreed that I’d leave town for six months and live with my dad in Ohio . He had a car I could drive and I’d get a job, save up for my own car and then come home. I was gone about six weeks when she cheated on me. I was devastated and didn’t recover for years… Close to ten I’d say.

In the midst of all these “relationships”, never once did I have sex. Sex! I was horney as could be most of the time. I was a male in his prime years after all… I was also terrified.

What if I did it wrong?
What if I wasn’t any good?
What if she wasn’t satisfied and broke things off with me?
What if I don’t like it? Oh, now wait. Of course I’ll like it! I’m a guy. We’re supposed to love sex. It’s all about the pussy, right?

My hand was my best friend… along with my International Male Catalogues.

My fiancé broke up with me when I was 19 years old. About 18 months later I was hit on by a woman who was funny, attractive and assertive, Kimberly. I thought it was great! I asked her out, we went on a date, we had fun. I heard from other sources that she really liked me. At the end of that first date, I drove her back home and we stood in her family driveway for a long time just talking and laughing. It was time to leave and I leaned in to hug her (I’m a good Christian boy; I don’t kiss on the first date.) While I leaned in to hug her, she leaned in to kiss me and she won. It was cold, sticky and completely without chemistry. Immediately I started thinking, “I gotta get outta here. How fast can I make that happen?”

We had plans for lunch the next day. I stood her up. I sat in my car at the top of the hill by her house and waited for her to leave and I put a note in her mail-box telling her that she reminded me of my ex and that I thought I was ready but I just wasn’t. Pretty cowardly… and not very smart considering she knew where I worked (at the mall) and that was where she picked up on me in the first place.

Later I moved to California . I met a girl randomly through work who made no secret of her attraction to me. I went out with her once and we had a nice time. She wanted to spend the night but I wouldn’t let her. (I was scared.) The second date was a disaster and I never saw her again.

That was 1999. I haven’t been on a date since.

In August of 2001 I was laid off from my job without ceremony. I was given no severance other than the wages I had earned and any unused vacation time. I couldn’t even afford to pay September’s rent. I moved out of my studio apartment in San Francisco, and in with my good friend M&M, who said she wasn’t letting me move back to Oklahoma, where I’d come from. We shared her one bedroom apartment for nine months before it was obvious I wasn’t going anywhere, anytime soon and her lease was up. We moved into a two bedroom apartment near by and lived together until this past September, two weeks short of six years.

M&M is a very nice, caring, wonderful person. She’s also damaged in some way. She doesn’t really have any friends besides me and her large family. I don’t understand why. She’s not socially inept and she’s pretty, but she doesn’t have a lot of friends and she hasn’t dated since 1994. In May of 2003, we decided that maybe we should have a “friends with benefits” kind of situation. I wasn’t getting any younger, and at 28 was still a virgin. She wasn’t getting any younger and at 34 hadn’t had sex in 15 years. What the hell, right?

WRONG! I never really enjoyed it. It was never good for me. I could barely feel her except for when she was on top. I have no stamina and she was impossible to please. She didn’t like to “have to do the work” and the only way I could stay with her was if she was on top. I never had the nerve to explain that to her. One night in a drunken fit she got mad because she was always on top, and because for a brief moment I got distracted and lost my erection. I don’t remember what she said, but it was the final straw and I got up and walked out of the room and that was the last time we even tried to have sex. It’s been three years.

The first time we were together, I went down on her, ’cause, ya know, that’s what you’re supposed to do, right? I’d read enough to know that women don’t normally cum very easily with straight intercourse and that the “right” thing to do was to get her going first and then go for the main event. I was only there for a couple minutes, but it was long enough to know that the only kind of pussy I like is the kind with whiskers, purrs and curls up next to me on the couch after he’s eaten his fill of food. The whole experience was disgusting to me and I couldn’t do it again.

Through all this I realized a few things. I didn’t like giving a woman oral sex. I didn’t like looking at her jiggling flesh (boobs, etc.) while she gyrated on top of me. Having sex with her wasn’t the explosive, all encompassing, thrilling experience that I always thought it would be. Oh and that guy over there is sexy… Wait, that’s not what I’m supposed to be thinking. But it was. And it still is.

So there it is. I know I’m gay. I know there’s no point in denying it anymore. I’m not just wishing I was like those guys in the catalogue, I’m wishing I was with them. Now that I’ve got that part out of the way, I just have to figure out how I’m going to shed a lifetime of shame and denial and fear. How am I going to make today truly be the first day of the rest of my life? Well, to tell the truth? I don’t know. But come along for the ride and I guess we’ll figure it out together.