twenty-something

* * *

Fuck the Macarena. Seriously.

* * *

One of the bribes that my parents used for the move back to Vermont was a computer. They bought a brand new Compaq that August, and when we signed up for America Online, it opened a whole new can of worms.

Within days, I am lurking in chat rooms and fishing for pictures on porno newsgroups. About two a.m. one night, I take the plunge and type in the word "gay." At first, I only sneak peaks at pictures of cowboys fucking and jocks showering, but soon, my lust evolves into further exploration. I get information. I get to look at people's lives via their home pages. Gay life is suddenly demystified. The more I read, the more I think. And the more I think, the more I have to admit the truth...

* * *

I get my first job -- as a bag boy at a supermarket down the street from my house. Even thought I look hot in my reflective orange smock, I am soon upgraded to cashier and upgrade to a slimming blue apron. I use my paycheck to buy CDs at the neighboring Ames department store. Ah, teenage disposable income...

* * *

Some of those amazing albums of '96: "Boys for Pele" by Tori Amos, "Fashion Nugget" by Cake, Sheryl Crow's self-titled (the album banned by Wal-Mart), and "Bringing Down the Horse" by The Wallflowers.

* * *

Browsing the Internet, I find the home page of Chris, a 32-year-old gay doctor who lived in Australia. He is a successful man with a cute boyfriend, and we share the same taste in music, movies, and everything else. After spending an hour exploring his web site, I write him a very long email, which proves to be one of the most important things that I'll ever write. Verbatim:

One other thing that we may or may not have in common is our sexuality. You see, I'm not sure if I am gay or not. I'm pretty sure -- almost positive -- that I am homosexual, but, I don't know, I'm just not sure. I know that I am at least bisexual. You are the first and only person that I have told that the possibility exists. This leads me to something that we do not have in common: our ages. I am sixteen years old, a young pup by most standards. But before you say, "kid, I don't have time for this...", hear me out. I'm caught between being a man and being a boy and I'm torn apart my conflicting feelings. My heart and body says one thing and my mind says another. I don't know what I'm going to wear to school tomorrow, let alone if I am gay or straight. I'm very confused right now. I don't know what's "normal" anymore.

Though he is a world away, Chris becomes my best friend in the world. He is an invaluable ally, confidant, and mentor.

* * *

As I begin 11th Grade, I isolate myself and have trouble reconnecting with old friends or making new ones. I grew up knowing I was "different," but I finally acknowledge that difference, I finally know what it was. I harbor a secret and I am terrified that if I let someone close they will find out and destroy me with it. I am, for the first time, in the closet.

* * *

"So Much To Say," from Dave Matthews Band's "Crash," becomes my official -- and self-proclaimed -- theme song. "I say my hell is the closet I'm stuck inside..."

* * *

I join the staff of The Red & White, the school newspaper, and eventually made some friends. I cement myself as a key member of the writing staff. In my new life in Rutland, the paper seems to be the only thing going for me.

* * *

1996 is, of course, the year I discover the amazing Duncan Sheik. The world knows him because of "Barely Breathing" -- I know home from "In the Absence of Sun." It becomes my song for thinking of Adam, as I want to write or call, but can't seem to bring myself to do it. "I don't want to feel this way... I don't want to say I'm just a friend... We just lie about it, as we become shadows of ourselves..."

* * *

That fall, Scream rocks my world and Jerry Maguire makes me tear up. I will make no mention here of anything happening at hello. My movie buddy is fellow reporter Lindsay, a nice senior girl who obviously crushes on me. We movie-date and co-review until she graduates. I feel horrible for leading her on.

* * *

For many months, Dr. Chris in Australia is my only real friend, even though he is "not real." I never meet Chris. I know him through thoughtful daily emails, Internet chats, scanned pictures, and long-distance phone calls. It is one of the most important friendships of my entire life.

* * *

In real life, finally acknowledging attractions to my classmates, I find myself drawn to Brandon, a boy in many of my College Prep classes. He is the blonde that sits towards the back of the class and doesn't say much. There is something about him, something that I can't quite put my finger on, that draws me to him.

I soon convince myself that Brandon is gay and, as if it were completely unavoidable, develop an intense crush on him. I want to be his friend so badly, but I want to be more than that even more. Its a horrible paradox: become his friend and deny my feelings, torturing myself every time I was around him with an almost painful desire, or admit my true feelings and, in effect, most likely loose him.

I wrestle with my dilemma and my growing feelings and lust for Brandon. Mirroring my Civics class interview with Adam two years earlier, I interview Brandon for The Red & White's student profile feature. From that interview, we become friends. We sit together in study hall, talk after class, and chat online at night...

* * *

Speaking of chatting online, I am a regular in the "Vermont M4M" room on AOL. Late in the year, I have my first online meeting -- I go to see Beavis & Butthead Do America with John. a junior at another local high school. My mom drops me off at the theater and I meet John -- a long-haired hippie type. We hardly talk, and after the movie, John drops me off. End of story. He persues me for a second meeting and I finally cave -- but get stood up. He emails me simply, "I'm not ready for this." I begin to think that maybe I'm not, either.

---

This work is licensed under a Creative Commons License.
Posted by Patrick on 03/30/05 at 12:17 AM
Categorized: 90s-Something
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