EPTWhen i was a kid, I realized that I was different from other boys. as i grew older, and became more aware of the world around me, it became clear that it was because i was attracted to them. as in attracted...to boys. it took me a long time to admit this to myself. at the time, it wasn't something that i wanted, and i hated myself because of it.
My family is Chinese. While they aren't christian, they are old-fashioned, and somewhat conservative. Since I was the only child, the only male heir, I was expected to carry on the family bloodline and what not, have a family and grand children and the whole seven yards. the crushing disappointment that i had somehow failed them, and all their dreams and hopes, weighed heavily on my shoulders all my years of highschool, and i remained deeply in the closet.
I had thought to myself that i would somehow be able to change who i was, that there were programs out there that could make me normal and whatnot, and i could be the success that my parents wanted me to be. I could marry a women, have kids, and take over the family business. but during my senior year, after much introspection, i knew that this wasn't possible.
Of course i went through a few of the gay trials that most kids are probably familiar with...the unrequited crush on the straight friend (that lasted sophomore to senior year), and the frantic hiding of search terms and history for gay porn.
When i moved to college, i wanted to have a fresh start. so i decided to move almost halfway across the country to a university that, while it wouldn't have been my first choice, it was far enough.
My freshmen year of college, i was still unable to admit to others. it was a wholly new experience for me. i made many friends, male and female, but i'd always pretend that i like women. when people asked me, i'd detail the imaginary girlfriends i had back in highscool. the truth was that i never had a girlfriend, even though many girls had liked me, i felt that it wasn't fair to them, and i remained what you can call a kissless virgin.
even after moving, i wasn't able to find the courage to tell others about who i really was, even though deep down i knew that almost all my friends would have no problems whatsoever with my sexual orientation. the fear still haunted me, and i'd always tell myself. 'tomorrow i will come clean', but tomorrow would always be the next day, and in the hustle and bustle of college work, suddenly it was sophomore year, and all my plans to have a fresh start and admit who i was were pushed back.
and then, came the biggest change in my life. his name was christian.
christian was a junior. it was strange that we ever met, we had separate majors, mine being biology and his being law, so probably we might not have ever seen each other, if somehow fate hadn't decided that we would both be bored and take some into sociology course.
so, it was the first day of class, and there was only ten minutes of to get to my next class. however i forgot to look up the location of the building, and when i finally arrived, i was late. luckily, there was an empty seat near the back that i could sit down in, and not be embaressed on being late the first day.
the first i noticed, on my right, was christian. a very cute boy. i could admire from afar, but it would remain window shopping. halfway through the first class, our professor told us to turn to the person next to us, and discuss a topic. so that was when christian and i first talked.
he brought up some interesting points, and i was intrigued by him. he had intelligent comments and a great depreciative smile and these hazel eyes that sort of crinkled up whenever he laughed. i had to turn my eyes elsewhere a few time so he wouldn't catch me staring at him.
after class ended, we said goodbye to each other, and i spent the rest of the day daydreaming about him. the next day, i had thought he would have changed seats, but to my surprise he called my name when i arrived, on time, and pointed to the empty seat next to him. so i sat down.
for the next few weeks that followed, we talked, and i increasingly came to like him. of course, i knew where this was going. another unrequited crush on a straight guy, not to mention how deeply in the closet i still was. but i didn't want it to end. i figured, what the hell. what's the worse that could happen? in the meantime i horded information about my forbidden crush. his e-mail, cell number, favorite color, favorite basketball team (Portland Blazers, go figure), and other stalkery info.
during the midterm, we decided have a study session so we could go over the class notes together. as we were studying, i started to talk about this great burrito place just off campus that me and my friend samantha had gone to. (great wet burritos by the way)
and then the question came up.
"your girlfriend?" he asked
i didn't know what to say for a few seconds. i could feel my heart palpitating, even as the generic excuses i had used before were about to spill from my lips. but then something inside me snapped. i said , simply "nope."
then he asked, "she hot?"
i said yes, and then he insisted on hooking me up with one of his friends, who was on the market and looking.
i declined. he asked me "why not?"
and i had had enough. i just told him. "i'm gay."
it was the first time i had ever told someone. my cheeks were flushed red with embaressment, and he mouthed an "oh.", that made my stomach go into freefall. I wasn't able to look him in the eyes, so i kept my eyes glued to the paperclip on my notes. i didn't want to see his reaction. if it would be disgust, confusion, or maybe nothing at all.
and then he told me, "me too."
he said it as if it was no big deal, as if he were talking about the weather. but to me it was a life-changing moment for me. I had never had a conversation with another gay man where the other party knew i also batted for the same team.
we continued to study, a titanic task for me, since my mind was scattered. when we both felt we had the material down and were ready to leave, i wanted to just sit him down and ask him an endless stream of questions, about how he came out, or what his experiences were, but i acted nonchalant and went back to my apartment where i stayed in bed and stared at the ceiling until morning came.
the next day in class, it was as if nothing had changed, we continued to talk. a week later though, he asked me if i wanted to go watch a harry potter with him, since none of his friends wanted to go. i quickly agreed.
i remember i spent over three hours showering, doing my hair, and finding a combination of clothes that looked good but didn't appear as if i was some tryhard.
i met him at the theater, and we went in. i loved harry potter of course, i was able to forget that christian was sitting to my side while i watched snape kill dumbledore. afterwards, we had dinner at the burrito place i talked about (24 hour service).
as we sat at a table bench outside, he kinda looked me in the eyes, and asked me if i wanted to go out with him. i was in shock for a good 30 seconds, though i tried my damndest to appear as if i wasn't.
'oh. yah, sure.'
it was a miserable answer, to which he responded, 'cool!'
when we were doing eating and talking about stupid we thought prof. Crane was, we left. but before i drove back to my apartment, as i faced him in the parking lot, he turned his head and kissed me on the cheek. i nearly fell over, as such personal contact was something i hadn't experienced much.
when i was in bed last night, it took awhile for everything to settle in. i was seeing someone. and not just someone. he was a boy. i had my first kiss (on the cheek). my first date. it was all very overwhelming, and i was somewhat afraid. what if my parents found out? what if i did something wrong? what do i do next? my closeted self had no idea what to expect. i watched enough television series and movies and shows to know what to do, but real life was different that the screen, and i didn't want my ineptitude to show.
the rest of my sophomore year was great. it was more than great. it was a happiness i hadn't imagined i could ever experience.
I gave him all my firsts.
my first time holding hands. my first real kiss with tongue and everything, my first time getting a back massage after staying up all night to study, and many other nc-17 things that shall not be discussed. (and they made me regret why i did not discover them earlier)
More than the act of sex, to me it was knowing that someone was there for you. I was all into the cuddling. I didn't like parties much and I was more of a home body, probably from all those years being sheltered as a kid.
of course we had our problems. he kept trying to teach me to play ultimate frisbee (a sport every white guy loves for some reason) though I could not catch a frisbee if my life depended on it. i tried to teach him how to play starcraft , though he concluded that he would be forever bad.
I hated how he never capped his tooth paste, and he hated how i littered my clothes all over. he refused to play scrabble with me because he always lost, and i hated to play smash brothers against him because he was much better than me. we were both overly competitive.
there was much give and take in our relationship, but i wouldn't have traded it for anything in the world.
gradually i was able to come out to my friends. to my shock some of them already knew it. and most didn't care. suprise, surprise.
there were some bad experiences. sometimes people would call us fags when we kissed (a chaste one of course) in public or held hands, though eventually i learned to ignore their weak taunts. after all, i had a boyfriend, and life was great.
Come my senior year, and we had already been together for two years. We had even been living together since my junior year. There wasn't much he didn't know about me. He knew he was my first boyfriend. He knew about my experiences in highschool, and how my parents didn't know I was gay.
He encouraged me to come clean to my parents. Of course my parents still thought I was straight, but I just didn't have a girlfriend because I was occupied with school, and education was most important. I decided that I would tell them everything when I went back for winter vacation. And Christian would be by my side.
When I arrived at my childhood home, and saw my parents, the fear came back to me again. I wasn't able to say anything. I introduced Christian as my best friend from college, and for the rest of month until the day we left, I never found an opportunity to tell them. I felt miserable, not only because I had failed, but because Christian deserved to be more than some dirty secret in the back of my closet. Thank god he was understanding.
And then two months after that, an accident happened that changed my mind about everything.
My mom died from a stroke.
When I first heard the news, I broke down. How could she die? How could she leave me like this? How could she do this to me? She was my mom. I loved, and will always love her. I didn't know why it happened, and I was lost for the next few days, but Christian was patient at my side, and always ready to lend a shoulder.
I returned for the funeral, with Christian. When I saw her again in her casket, I broke down in tears once more. She was the woman that gave me life. I remembered grabbing her leg as a kid when she was leaving for her waitering job because i didn't want her to leave. I remember her helping me shower, washing my clothes, cooking me dinner, talking to me about my life, making sure I had orange juice when I was sick, and all these little details that flooded back to me. She had worried about me, she had loved me, nursed me, and made me who I was.
And she would never know that I was gay. She would never know of Christian, or how much I loved him, or all the things I had done or would do.
The last I had seen her, we had a little fight. She would die not hearing me say I love her. At that moment I realized I would do anything to have her back. Even if she knew my sexual orientation and hated me for it, I would not mind fighting her at all, if it would mean she was safe and alive.
And I didn't want my father to be the same.
The day after the funeral, I approached my dad as he woke up every morning and told him. He stared at me for awhile. For a moment I was scared I had shocked him into a heart attack. I told him I loved him, and that I was gay. That I had a boyfriend, and he was that man that you met.
He turned around without saying a word drove off to work.
I decided that he needed time.
This all happened to me earlier this year. My dad just called me last week and told me to come visit him with Christian once the term is over.
I just want to send a message to every gay person out there, that sometimes you parents can be more understanding than you think, and that there is always a chance for a better future. That there are worse things than if your parents kicked you out, and that most would probably just need some time to think about it. theres always solutions to problems.
So that's my story for now. Peace.
