Coming out.... (Part One)

The first person who actually found out my deep dark secret was my little brother.

Let me say first that I never considered my self gay at first. I just thought boys were hot, had sucked a few dicks, and was being used by a pedo... that doesn't mean I am gay right? I had several girlfriends through highschool, but experimented a lot with boys sexually. I never once wanted to sleep with any of my gf's - touching girls in any way scared me physically.

I kept a journal of sorts, mainly just putting my fantasies about several of the boys I knew down on paper. It was an erotic exercise.

I was home for the holidays in my last year for the first time in two years (I hated being at home). I had been catching up with some old mates in my hometown, and was pretty tanked on Vodka when I got home. I had seen Alex, the soccer boy, and I wanted to write about him. I got out my journal from where it was stashed under the matress. I opened up to where the last story was, and found a whole piece written by my little brother, telling me he is okay with me being gay, and he will always defend me if it ever came up.

I lay on the bed, clutching the book to my chest, and just sobbed uncontrollaby for what seemed like an hour. It was the first time it became real to me. The first time that I had to face the fact that perhaps I was in this category. GAY... ffs, it was a word that scared the living daylights out of me. Gay wasn't even a word that had become fashionable yet, it was a new concept.

There was no prejudice in his note to me, just love. I wrote a response to him in my journal, and left it so that he could easily find it.

The next day, at the bottom of my response, there was a small 'xxx' written below in his writing.

The context is important though. Him and I really grew up seperately. I went to boarding school, while he chose to move in with our grandmother for most of highschool. Her house was our home. My mother had remarried, and Stepdad was an arsehole, so we stayed away. We hardly spoke at all during highschool. I only found out recently that one of the reasons he left boarding school after his first year there, was because he was being teased about being the 'gay boy little brother'. It makes me sad, because no-one ever said anything to me directly, and I never knew he was suffering the consequences of me being gay.

The word now being on paper, and it all being real, I went into panic mode. I didn't want to be gay. Trevor and I had finally had the fights of all fights, and I had moved out from him, and back into the hostel for my final exams. I had decided that that part of my life was now over. No more boys, no more Trevor, no more journal, no more gay. I burnt the journal shortly after that and decided I would rather be on my own and leave it at that.

We have been really close later on in life.

After high school, I moved back in with Trevor. He was so closet, it suited me. And much older too. I lived with him as 'business partners' until I was twenty-two. I finally moved out again, and again I denied my sexuality, mainly because we were always living a lie, and wanted no part of it. I thought it would be easier being on my own, and dealing with it on my own. That's when I met my ex-wife, and I just continued the denial until age 37.